Tunnels (9 page)

 

CARROT CAKE RECIPE

or

THE BEST WAY TO CHOKE DOWN YOUR VEGGIES

 

I don't know about you, but the only way for me to choke down vegetables (other than the lettuce and tomatoes on a burger) is to majorly disguise them inside yummy cake or pie. Did you know zucchini tastes like apples when you add sugar and cinnamon and cook it in a flakey pie crust? Or when you surround the horrible green pieces of zuke with moist cake like in the recipe below? Take my word for it. Make, eat, thank me later.

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees

Get out your favorite mixing bowl because food always tastes better when you use your fave kitchen utensils.

Mix together with a whisk: 2 cups flour, 2 cups sugar, 2 teaspoons cinnamon, 1 teaspoon salt, 2 teaspoons baking soda, 1½ cups canola oil.

After it's all mixed up, stir in 3 cups grated carrots.

Pour the mixture into a 9" x 12" baking dish—like the kind a normal mom (so not the General) makes lasagna in.

Bake 40-45 minutes or until you can put a toothpick in the center and it comes out clean.

You can frost it if you want, but I like it with just powdered sugar on top.

DESPITE THE FLORAL PRINT

"It wasn't so bad," David consoled me. "You're being too hard on yourself."

"Right," I agreed in my most sarcastic voice. "So what you're saying is, it wasn't so bad when my Mom curtsied to Governor Taylor or when Dad said, 'I've got to see a man about a horse' when he had to go to the bathroom? Who under the age of ninety talks like that?"

And if embarrassing parents weren't bad enough, now I had to deal with this lacey collar thing giving me an annoying rash. I was tempted to just rip it off.

"I'm sure the governor gets that all the time."

Wasn't he sweet? Trying to make me feel better about the fact I have two of
the
strangest parents ever? The upside of the night was we were walking in the mayor's garden. Alone. Everything smelled so great. Especially him.

"Well I guess it wasn't as bad as seeing me and my bad-perm-hair on the caf's big screen." Yes, Kelley had gotten ahold of my hero picture and bribed the A/V guy to put it up at lunch. I told you she'd find a way.

"Could've been worse, you know," he grabbed my hand as we walked, and I tried not to faint. "At least it hasn't gone viral. Besides, I thought you were kind of cute." He squeezed my hand. I don't need to tell you how that felt.

The good news was I hadn't gotten too sweaty during the ceremony. My speech ended up being a quick thank you for the award they gave me because the governor had gotten there late. After she shook my hand and Mayor Delaney gave me a hug, we had dinner because there was a big-time chef there who said, "Chef Robert waits for no one." So we all piled into this huge dining room full of lots of round tables, white tablecloths, and sparkly silverware.

We were seated at the governor's table. Chef Robert made a big deal over telling us what was on the menu. When I heard him say "quail eggs," I pretty much decided I'd rather starve. Besides, the four different forks lined up beside my plate made me too nervous to eat. Which one to use first? Do you work from the outside in or the inside out? I decided to butter a roll, avoiding the question completely because there was only one knife so it was a no-brainer.

"Why don't we go over there and sit down?" But being so close to him and holding his hand must have been too much for my system. My legs became all wobbly and I was dizzy. Either that or I hadn't eaten enough today. Which isn't usually my style, but since I was so nervous about tonight, I'd only had a bowl of cereal this morning (sweet crunchy squares coated with peanut butter of course).

So when my heart started beating faster and I almost followed Mayor Delaney to heart-attack city, I tried to look on the bright side. If I did, David was right beside me so he could do CPR. And as long as the EMTs weren't called in to do more lifesaving stuff, like cut my dress off…then we were good. Otherwise the only clean underwear I had in my drawer this morning (a Friday pair from the seven days of the week package Grandma gave me at Hanukkah last year) would be seen by everybody and could ruin me for life. Trust me, they were usually a back-up pair but it was the end of the week and, well, laundry happens on Saturday.

"Nice night, huh?" His voice didn't sound nervous at all. What was wrong with me?

"Yup." Crud. Why couldn't I be interesting and say, "Yeah, especially since we're together" instead?

So I stared at all the garden stuff we walked past instead of at him, hoping to hide how self-conscious I felt. And when I realized we were surrounded by more of those creepy topiary statues, I began to wonder if they were following me. First the church courtyard, now here? Why was it so popular to fill up gardens with these things?

Then I realized I'd take the topiary statues any day over what was now surrounding us a few steps later. The bushy monsters disappeared and half naked marble goddesses lined the path. And that's when the sweat I'd been dreading all night finally started to roll down my back. Which is not good, because then David sat down and patted the seat next to him. How could I possibly take the chance that his hand might land on my sweat-drenched floral print back?

So there we were. He stared at me, I stared back at him. Was that a clock ticking? Why did it sound like the Pacific Ocean was rushing through my head? Was Chef Robert's field-green salad stuck between my teeth? And why was that Greek statue of Venus staring at us? I tried to ignore, but it's hard to act cool with all this white nakedness around you. It'd be good to have a jacket to throw over her. And now I felt like I was going to hurl.

"Hey." He patted the bench again. "Want to sit down?" His hair fell cutely in front of his eyes as he leaned toward me, and I wanted to reach over and brush it back. Which helped me calm down for some reason and made me realize something super important. He was here. With me. No one was making him ask me to sit beside him. My heart slowed and I no longer felt like I've had an IV drip of one of those gross energy drinks for the last twenty four hours. It was pat…pat…pat now, instead of patpatpat.

So I realize it's game time, ladies and gentlemen, and if I don't get myself together I'll be missing out on my first kiss, even though I wasn't completely sure I knew how to kiss. But he is my crush after all, and I had to find out. So I took a deep breath and wiped my hands on my dress to remove all the excess sweat which had pooled there (on account of sweat dripping downward from my pits). I ran my tongue over my lips to prep them. But as I stepped toward him, my heel caught on something and I face-planted right at the feet of the naked goddess.

"Ow!" Of course it was my bad foot I twisted. "My ankle!"

"Are you okay?" Instantly he was down on his knees beside me. "Let me see it." So he lifts my foot and examines it, becomes Mr. EMT dude, and starts feeling for any bones sticking out. Who am I to complain about what he's doing? He is the medical professional after all. Then he lays my foot in his lap and massages it a bit. We're talking big-time tingling and I was amazed. It's got to mean he likes me, right?

"Better?" he asks as he helped me to a sitting position.

"Uh huh," I say in my best Neanderthal response. "Mush."

He laughed, like baby talk was so cute.

"What exactly did you trip on?" He patted the ground. "Ah, must have been this." He tore away at some grass and began tapping the ground—it definitely wasn't dirt because it sounded like metal. "There's some kind of handle here—your heel must have caught on it." Taking a little flashlight from his pocket, he shined it on the ground. Would have been a pretty geeky move if David wasn't the one shining it. "And it's attached to this big metal thing."

Huh. Forgetting my pain—because, you know, the foot massage did help—I got onto my knees and crawled over. He was right. It was a handle. And it was attached to something that looked like those man-hole covers downtown. But it was bigger than that. I knew the mayor's house was one of the oldest in Citrus Grove. All the old houses had weird stuff like this.

"Can I see your flashlight?"

He handed it to me and the light danced before us.

"Let's open it," I said as I tugged on the handle. But it wouldn't budge. Probably rusted shut. David reached over and gave it a few tugs, too.

"Needs a crowbar. We've got plenty on the fire truck, but I'm fresh out tonight."

I nodded. Maybe it was better. I could come back alone and work at it myself. But I knew I'd have to sneak in next time. "It's probably nothing," I said, knowing it was absolutely something.

IS SOMEBODY TRYING TO KILL ME?

After my wipe out in the garden, we went out for pizza. Both of us were completely starving on account of Chef Robert's fancy food and all the stupid forks they expected us to use. Little did I know sharing pizza with David wasn't going to be the best part of the night.

But before the best part, a strange thing happened when we were hanging around outside of Antonio's Pizzeria waiting for Kenny. Last I checked, some girl was sitting on his lap, so I knew I had a while to decide how to thank David for taking care of me. Should I give a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek? A light punch on the arm? Everybody knows it's what guys and girls do when they like each other.

Only I didn't have a chance for any of that because I noticed something weird. A man came out of the shadows of the alley beside the restaurant. Hunched over, his face was hidden by long hair and a beard so it was hard to tell how old he was. He went over to a bicycle leaning against a telephone pole and climbed on. That's when he pushed the hair out of his face and stared at me. Only that's not the weirdest part. Seemed like I knew him and I had no idea why.

"So you want to make it official?" David asked when he grabbed my hand.

"Huh?" My eyes were still glued on the old man, making sure he wasn't about to come over and throw down on us. I mean he's old but he could have a weapon. But it didn't happen at all. He just got on the bike and started riding off down Brookside Avenue.

"Official," he said. "You know—hang out together at school and stuff?"

Now that got my attention. Me. Cutest boy ever. Me saying, "YES!"

And if my Dad hadn't pulled up and parked right beside us, then I maybe would've finally found out what the will-you-hang-out-with-me-kiss was like…or at least a good arm punch. Guess I can't blame Dad for his pizza addiction. Plus, where else was he supposed to go since Antonio's is the only pizza joint in town? Stupid Chef Robert and his cruddy foo-foo food. But even though I kinda understood, it didn't erase my irritation. Because if the interruption wasn't a buzz kill in itself, Dad offering to "take her off your hands and save you some gas" was.

So instead, our parting kiss or arm punch was replaced with, "Okay see you tomorrow for the concert." And when I tried to sneak a quick hug when Dad walked away to go pick up his pizza, David just shook his head and laughed. Moment? Yeah, completely ruined.

That was just last night and trust, all I'd thought about was my new status as David's number one girl. No mysterious bearded guys on my mind until now, eight o'clock Saturday morning. Usually way too early for me on a non-school day, but not now. I mean, how do you sleep after your crush says he wants to hang with you? Or some old guy completely creeped you out only twelve hours ago? Maybe I should talk to Evan about it.

Mom had already left for the gym and Dad was puttering with the lawn mower. Demon boy was sick with the flu and, don't ask me why, but I felt a little bit sorry for him. Instead of telling him how much I hated him, I popped a few frosted cinnamon pastries into the toaster and brought him some juice with the toasty, cinnamon-y goodness. He was actually pretty sweet cuddled under the blanket, watching cartoons, too weak to be a little jerk.

David was supposed to call me around four to say what time they'd pick me up for the concert tonight (because that's what boys do when they like you!). So it meant I only had seven hours max to go searching for the tunnels. Not much when you're trying to change the world…and get back in time to maybe get your first kiss or arm slug at the most amazing concert ever. So I had to get busy. Saturday morning, archaeology game-face totally on.

"Hi, it's Kat—is Evan around?" I was speed-walking down Center Street with my cell phone (yes, the General finally gave in since I'm a hero). It'd been a week since I'd been down in the tunnel and I needed to get back on track. Trouble is, I'm afraid of who or what might be down there, ready to chase me out…or worse. At least Kirke hadn't visited me again.

"Hello, Katherine!" His mom always calls me by my full name. "He's outside weeding the garden. If you hang on a minute I'll bring him the phone." Gardening wasn't Evan's thing, but he owed his parents big time for loaning him the money for some junior cosmetology school he's enrolled in. Evan's aunt is letting him wash hair and answer phones at her hair salon, and he totally wants to be ready to cut when he turns eighteen. Knowing his mom likes the chores done before nine a.m., I gave him a call without the worry of waking anyone up.

"What?" He sounded breathless and in no mood to hear from me. Gardening was considered athletic to him and I guess I wasn't his favorite person at the moment.

"Hang on," I said as I hitched the pack I was carrying onto my other shoulder. This time I was ready—pick axe, shovel, and a stronger flashlight. "Last night David and I went to the dinner at the mayor's house and at the end of the night I saw something weird." I stopped at the red traffic light and waited for the red man to change to white at the crosswalk.

"What," I could hear him grunting as he spoke, probably pulling out some weed which was giving him a hard time, "did you look in the mirror?"

"Aren't you
so
funny." I half expected the bearded man to show up while Evan was wasting time teasing me. "There was this old guy with a long beard and scraggily hair. He was giving me the stink eye, like he hated me. But it was hard to—"

"Hello! Don't you ever listen to me?" If possible, he sounded more irritated than before and I wondered why. "It's how the guy I saw in the courtyard of the church the other day looked. But, no, you didn't believe
me.
"

Oops. Guess I should listen a little better. "But E—I did go and check behind the pillar and there wasn't anyone there," I reminded him. "You seriously think it's the same guy?"

I heard him snort before he answered—another signature move to signal I was stupid beyond all comprehension. "Just how many guys do you think run around with beards practically down to their knees?"

He had a point. "Alright—I get it," I agreed. "I'm sorry I didn't take you more seriously." The light changed and I jogged across the street. My ankle felt one hundred percent better.

"Why do I hear cars in the background? Where are you going?"

Should I tell him? I didn't want anyone trying to talk me out of what I was about to do. Then again, it would be good if somebody knew where I was heading in case I don't show up for dinner tonight.

"Back down." I paused, trying to use my most convincing voice. "If you hurry you can meet me at the bus stop downtown. I have an idea the old irrigation channel on Pioneer will get me into the tunnels."

"You've got to be kidding me." He sounded worried and angry. "Haven't you learned your lesson?"

"You're starting to break up," I lied, scraping the mouthpiece of my awesomely new cell phone against my ring to make it all static-y. "I'll call you later." I hoped he believed me because he so doesn't like to be cut off. But I knew there was no point staying on the phone with him. It would just become an argument about me and my stupid decisions, and I wasn't about to waste any more time.

After about twenty minutes of waiting for the bus because I'd just missed the ten o'clock, I heard Evan's voice behind me. "Hey, who are you?"

"Get out of my way, son!"

Then I saw him, but just for a minute. The bike, the scraggly hair, the long beard. How long had he been watching me this time? And when he said the words "get out", well, I recognized that, too.

"He's the guy! Should I go after him?"

You could tell Evan wanted me to say no, but big points to him for offering. I knew since the guy was on a bike, there wasn't much chance of catching him anyhow—even if the man was probably in his eighties. It was easier to tell his age in daylight.

"Nah, he's gone," I said when I was finally next to him. "So he's the guy you saw the other day at the church?" I asked. "'He's definitely the one I saw last night. And his voice—it's the same voice I heard in the tunnel when I was being chased last time."

"Yup, he's the guy. Between the long beard and the bike, there's no question. Plus, the bike's the same one I saw parked against the wall when I rescued you from the tunnel the other day. I thought someone had left it because it's so old and broken down."

Pfft. I don't know about
rescued
. Maybe
helped
would be a better word. I stared off into the distance, but the mystery man was long gone. Who was he? It was scary to think someone seemed to care so much about me, but not in a good way. He's got to be the one trying to keep me out of the tunnels. The only thing was, his head wasn't shaped weird.

"Dude," Evan punched my arm, "aren't you listening?"

"Ouch!" I rubbed my arm. "Of course I'm listening. I'm just trying to figure out who he is."

"I know—me, too. That's why I just asked you what I did."

"Well excuse me for trying to figure out who's trying to kick our butts," I said. "Go ahead, tell me again what you said."

He rolled his eyes. "I asked if you noticed the tattoo on his arm."

"No." Like I'd had a chance to check out the guy's arm. "What was it?"

"Can you say
big red heart?
"