Tunnels (8 page)

A HERO?

"Honey, where on earth have you been?" Mom was standing in front of the doorway, arms crossed. "I've been worried sick about you for hours!"

I slammed the car door and walked up the path. What was she doing home? "Sorry, Mom, I forgot to tell you I had to do a fashion show thingy with Evan up at the country club. Besides, I thought you and Dad were gone until late tonight." I stood in front of her, waiting for her to move. She didn't. "Maybe if you'd finally let me get a cell you could track me down when you want to," I reminded her, hoping she'd finally give in and get me one.

She ignored me. "We had to come home early. Your father started feeling sick to his stomach. I told him not to eat those jalapenos last night. Those things always cause him grief." She reached out and smoothed my hair. "But that's not the point. The point is, the phone's been ringing off the hook since we got home. Everyone's looking for you. The mayor's husband, the newspaper. They say you saved Mayor Delaney's life!" This is when she grabbed me and pulled me close. I fully thought I was about to be grounded again, but instead my OCD, vegan, psycho-general mom was squeezing the life out of me. I had to pull back to get some air. Let's just say Mom's got some girls on her and you can pretty much get lost in them if you're not careful.

"Kat, Kat, the giant brat," Sam taunted as he raced by us. "You're no hero, you're just queer-o!"

"Samuel Mark Goldstein," Mom warned, "you apologize immediately. Your sister saved a life today!"

But of course he was already down the street on his old skateboard—the one without the shoes glued to it. Kid's got serious problems. Mom and Dad better make him pay for it all later. Punish
him
for a change, the little devil's spawn. I should check to see if horns were sprouting out of his scalp.

I could hear the phone ringing and then Dad's voice. "Yes, I think she is finally home."

Mom grabbed my hand and pulled me inside. You're not going to believe what I saw when we got into the kitchen. Tons and tons of flowers and balloons, and a weird-shaped chocolate statue with "YOU'RE NUMBER ONE!" carved into it. But worst of all? Channel four flashing my yearbook photo with the word "Hero" beneath it.

Triple crud with crud on top. Not my fifth grade picture! It was like over a year ago after a seriously bad home hair straightening job when Mom was in her let's-cut-corners phase. All I'd wanted was to see my hair straight for once. What's wrong with a Brazilian blow-out for your birthday? Let's just say she never tried
that
again.

"It's Jack Delaney," Dad whispered with his hand covering the mouthpiece, "he's in Mayor Delaney's hospital room and he wants to speak to you, Kit Kat."

I couldn't tear my eyes away from the fried-out disaster called my hair. I prayed David wasn't watching. Or Kelley. There are no words for the fear I felt seeing the most embarrassing picture of me ever and knowing everyone else was seeing it, too.

Mom grabbed the phone and held it up to my ear for me. "Hello?" I said as I pulled it away from her. It's not like I'm three for crying out loud. I've been making phone calls now for like eight years and that was the look I gave her.

"Katherine," Mr. Delaney said, "thank you so much for saving Dottie's life! Peg Roth said you acted heroically for my Dot. The doctors say she's developed some kind of irregular heartbeat. I don't want to think about what the outcome would have been if you hadn't been there." His voice sounded all choked up and it kind of made me want to cry, too.

"No problem, Mr. Delaney," I assured him. "But it wasn't only me. Ms. Roth led me through it—"

"Well that's not what she says." He paused and I could hear the mayor in the background talking to him. "Dot says to mark your calendar for next Friday. The governor's coming to Citrus Grove and Dot wants you and your parents to be there to meet her. It's just a little black tie event and she wants to be able to show off who saved her life. Governor Taylor is a real hoot so you should get a kick out of her."

Black Tie? The governor? Is he kidding? How was I supposed to act around an actual governor? What should I wear? I don't think they'd like my black boots and tights much.

"Hello? Are you there?"

"Oh, yes, Mr. Delaney—"

"So we'll see you Friday, and Kat?" I heard him blow his nose. "God bless you."

He didn't wait for me to say anything else and I was glad. I needed time to figure out how to get out of going to this little dinner. What if I had to give a speech? No way. I can feel my sweaty pits now. Getting up in front of people requires massive amounts of deodorant and powder. Even my signature color black would be challenged by keeping the sweat marks away. That's a no-go for this little get-together.

"Tell us everything." Mom was squeezing me even harder now. "I can't believe it! Our daughter's a hero!" Dad came over and now we were doing a weird three-way hug which I don't think has ever happened in my lifetime. Super strange since Mom wasn't into PDA. I mean, a quick hug, an air kiss, yes. But this? Not in a million years would I have believed it.

"You're making too big a deal out of it." My voice was muffled on account of all the material and body parts covering me. "I was just about to get my costume on when everybody started screaming. So I did CPR on the mayor ‘cause she wasn't breathing and—"

"What do you mean it's nothing?" interrupted Mom as she pulled away from me. I actually saw tears in her eyes. "You saved a life, and that's, well, that's—"

Mom, speechless? Wow.

"Extraordinary," Dad finished.

"Well, I guess it is," I agreed, though I still didn't think of myself as a hero because I hadn't done it alone. "Now they want me to come to some dinner the governor's going to be at."

Mom had to sit down for this little piece of info and she started to fan herself with the newspaper. Thought she was going to have her own heart attack right there.

"We've got to get busy! We've got to get you a dress, buy you some shoes, maybe a new hair—"

"I'm not going." I had to stop her before she started planning my future marriage. Reaching into the fridge, I took a big swig from the milk jug (finally out of the vegan phase!) just to see what she'd do. This was a giant no-no in our house because she's fully germ-phobic. When she didn't say a word, I knew she was sprung.

"Well of course you're going, dear." She'd grabbed a pen and paper and I could see she was in her making-a-list mode. Mom's big on lists. A forgotten detail is the end of the world to her. "Dresses R Us, Fancy Feet," she mumbled, "Twist and Curl."

"Hon, I think she's serious," Dad said as he headed out of the kitchen with a sandwich he'd slapped together. "I don't think she wants to go."

At least someone listens around here. I didn't say another word. Just left her and her stupid list and headed upstairs to take a shower. It was time I got back to what's important, and I planned on spending the rest of the day reading more of Pops's journal.

 

TOP TEN THINGS I'D RATHER DO THAN MAKE A SPEECH IN FRONT OF THE GOVERNOR

 

10.Spend the day figuring out the circumference of circles.

9.Pick up trash on campus while wearing one of those orange vests that has a strip of reflective tape across the area you
'
d rather not draw attention to. Training bras are so embarrassing.

8.Tell Kelley she
'
s smart and interesting.

7.Go to massively huge tool store with Dad and get sidetracked in the nail and screw aisle while he explains the function of each and every one.

6.Clean out all the disgusting stuff under Sam
'
s bed
—
even the old food which has turned green and fuzzy.

5.Be hall monitor at school and bust everyone for being late to class because of excessive flirting.

4.Babysit Sam and his fellow demon club members for a whole twenty-four hours.

3.Go to family reunion and listen to
"
When I was a kid we had to…
"
stories from every single person in my family over the age of thirty. Snore.

2.Bond with my Mom while shopping for completely inappropriate pink wardrobe items for me.

And the #1 thing I
'
d rather do than make a speech in front of the governor:

Wear the completely inappropriate wardrobe items Mom picked out.
Hair ribbon and pastel tights included.

PRIVACY PLEASE or MOMS ARE SO NOSEY

Life is so not fair.

Speech about how I gave the mayor mouth-to-mouth? On.

Pink floral print dress and heels Mom picked out? Totally on.

And you know what else? They've invited the paramedics to come, too—so David gets to witness me being a total dork. This is not good. I only have twenty-four hours to get ready for the most embarrassing moment (to date, but just wait for the actual dinner) ever. Bet you he'll cancel taking me to the concert once he sees how lame I am up there. Just shoot me, please.

The worst part was, Mom fully laid the guilt trip on me when I told her I wasn't going. She said it'd be a slap in the face to her, Dad, the mayor, and the governor if I didn't show. I mean, why not add God to the list? Not to mention the little threat about being grounded for life. So what could I say? I have to suck it up and wear the stupid outfit and blow all my chances with David.

"Honey," Mom said as she burst into my room, telephone outstretched in my direction. "It's for you!" Like so loud I could almost hear the exclamation points.

"Hello?" I said into the telephone mouthpiece. I threw Mom a
can
'
t-you-knock?
look. The best part wasn't the fact she ignored me. It was her face, all amazed and glowing, as she whispered loud enough for Alaska to hear, "It's a boy!" like a miracle had just occurred. You'd think the baby Jesus had just landed in the manger.

"Hey, it's David." His voice sounded all husky, as usual, and I could just picture his perfect mouth. Talking. To. Me.

I waved at my mom to leave before I answered him. You'd think I'd stabbed her in the heart or told her soy products were no longer available as a food source. Sure she was fully listening outside my door, I talked super low. "Hi…what's up?" Trouble was, it sounded like I was trying to be flirty, not secretive.

"Hey, are you sick or something?"

Okay, maybe not so flirty. I'd have to work on it.

"Nah, I'm fine," I went back to my normal voice as I shoved my door all the way closed. "Just hanging out."

"Me too. My mom's getting a suit for me to wear to dinner on Friday. I hear you'll be there, too."

A suit. I know he'll be so cute in a suit. "Yeah, but you might not recognize me. I'll be the one looking miserable. My mom's making me wear a dress straight out of a nineteen forties Easter parade. Which is wrong for two reasons; it's ugly and I'm Jewish."

"Cool!" He laughed and I think the birds outside my window sang a song. I know, you don't need to say it. "We should hang out and be miserable together."

My stomach did a little flip. Maybe it wouldn't be such an awful experience after all. Except for the speech, of course. "Sure." I tried sounding casual, as if I get invitations from cute boys all the time.

"Guess we have a busy weekend coming up. You up for it?"

Wow! Is it official David Perkins was confirming our weekend plans,
and
that I'm into hanging around him for two nights straight?

"Yup, I'm ready." I tried to steady my shaky voice by wrapping my hand around my throat. It kind of worked.

"Alright. See you at the mayor's house."

"'Kay, see you," I managed to choke out. How was I going to concentrate until then?

Mom barged into the room
again
as soon as I hung the phone up. See? I knew she'd been listening. "Was this the same David who wants to take you to the concert?" As if every David in the world would be calling me. She was carrying a disgusting floral thing. Please tell me that is not IT.

"Uh huh," I mumbled and nodded because I knew she'd torture me until I told her what was up. "He'll be at the mayor's house too because he was part of the paramedic team who saved her."

"Paramedic team?" she asked. "Margaret Perkins's boy? How on earth is he a paramedic? She never mentioned it when we caught up on the phone the other night." She hung IT in my closet as she talked. I wondered if IT could somehow go missing.

"He's actually a paramedic in training. We have a cool junior career program at school he's in ‘cause he wants to be an EMT when he's older. He's just a good friend, Mom." I finished when I saw a smirk on her face. The one which said, "My little girl is growing up." How annoying.

"Well I should hope so. But regardless, even though you're just friends, I'll still need the name and phone number of this cousin you'll be going with—"

"Mom, could you let me have some space?" I interrupted. "We can talk about this later."

Surprisingly, she nodded and left my room. You have to understand stuff is never this easy with her. What was the deal? I knew I should be more worried she was up to something, but I didn't want to waste any more time. The journal was open to where I left off the night before. I'd fallen asleep before I'd read far. Guess saving a life was more exhausting than I realized.

I got up and threw the lock on my door. Demon Boy was outside skateboarding, and I knew Mom and Dad planned to catch up on all their taped shows on our old TV from the 90s. VHS tapes (yes, I did say VHS) of the gazillion detective shows they'd missed (snore). And all the singing and dancing competitions on every single station (double snore). Mom said she didn't want to figure out all of that DVR stuff and Dad, who's not big on change, says the VCR works just fine. They absolutely knew how to live on the edge.

I flipped open the journal to where I'd left off. Guess Pops skipped a few months because the next entry was made in November.

November 5, 1943

Sad news yesterday. George
'
s parents called and said they got word he was presumed dead because his plane had gone down. Emily fell apart, then said it couldn
'
t be true. It was
just a matter of him showing up. She said she was going to find him, then left the house and went and enlisted. When I tried to talk her out of it she wouldn
'
t listen. Kept saying she was going to bring him home if it
'
s the last thing she does. I don
'
t know what she could be thinking. The chances of finding him are slim. And she
'
ll be nursing in an army hospital, so even if she did see him, it would probably be in a way she wouldn
'
t want to. He
'
d have to be dead or wounded, I told her, but she didn
'
t care and she slapped me when I said it. I wasn
'
t mad though. She said she couldn
'
t just sit around and do nothing, knowing he was in harm
'
s way. Mother won
'
t even talk about it, like she thinks Emily will change her mind at the last minute, but I know better. Once Emily has her mind set, that
'
s it.

I went down to the basement when she was out today and poked around. Tried to find out why Emily likes to spend so much time down there. No luck. Guess I just have to let Emily be and see what happens. She
'
s got such a darn stubborn streak.

Edward

I thought about the note we'd found at Emily's gravesite and wondered again who could have left it. A mystery crush from seventy or eighty years ago? Or could George actually be wandering around, grieving for her? Those words on the note—what had the writer meant by, "I will come for you soon just as you once came for me"?