case, but all I could find was an umbrella.
I tiptoed down the stairs and peeked
through the peephole. There was no one standing outside. When I
inched open the door I found a cardboard box filled with
perishables: a bouquet of flowers with fresh baguettes, milk,
cheese and a small basket of apricots. I could get used to this
kind of lifestyle. It was like being a rock star without the
annoyances and obligations of fame.
I brought the stuff up to Karla and
she looked at the stuff like it was poison.
“ See?” I said. “I told you
we’re welcome here.”
She broke the baguette open and
sniffed. “It’s fresh.” She broke out into a big smile. It was good
to see her starting to get into it.
“ Smells great!”
She scrunched her face at me. “It’s
just sauce from a jar. I wish I could make fresh.”
I went back to the news. She called me
into the dining room when dinner was ready, greeting me at the
entrance with a glass of bubbly.
We sat down, with a steaming bowl of
pasta with pesto between us. A board with sliced prosciutto and
Romano cheese, some olives and artichokes.
“ How much you pay for this
place?”
“ Nothing,” I said. “It’s …
free.”
She shook her head. “Nothing is ever
free. I hope you will think about helping them.”
“ Yeah, sure. I’ll think
about it. Don’t know if I’ll be much use though, if I can’t cross
over.”
“ You need to at least try,”
she said, twirling her linguini into a spoon.
I nodded, to humor her, and mumbled
through a mouthful of noodles.
“ I am thinking,” said
Karla. “We can go up to Inverness tomorrow. That is one place I
haven’t looked for Izzie. I was afraid to go there by myself,
because … of Papa.”
“ Um. Sure,” I said. “We can
do that. Whatever you think is best.”
“ We can find Sturgie; get
him and his friends to help us. Around Papa’s people, I would feel
better if we have safety in numbers.”
“ No problem. He’s still
going to school up there, right?”
“ College? Yes, I think so.
He was only in his second year last time we saw him.”
“ Maybe we should rent a
car. What do you think?”
“ You have enough
money?”
“ I have the
card.”
She frowned. “I don’t think it is such
a good idea to keep using this credit card.”
“ Why not? They gave it to
us. I mean, if they want us to work for them, they should be
willing to cover our expenses. Right?”
“ You have decided? You are
working for them?”
“ Well, no.
But….”
“ Don’t use that card
anymore. Please. It’s not right.”
“ Karla. It’s fine. Really.
These people are rolling in the dough. Rich people die and leave
them everything. I wonder what kind of car we should rent. It would
be nice to get something upscale. I always wanted to drive a
Jag.”
***
We had another glorious night all
clean and cozy in a big, soft bed. All this luxury and
companionship was making up for all those long nights in prison on
that hard, thin pad they called a mattress.
Karla nixed my rental car idea. She
insisted that we pay cash, so we had to take the train.
Again.
I got us a pair of Oyster cards and we
took the tube to King’s Cross Station, grabbing a couple of
cucumber and goat cheese sandwiches from Pret to take along for the
ride. We had an hour before the train left so we hung around in the
food court and shops in the building besides the
platforms.
I was checking out a magazine rack
when this heavy set red-haired woman made a bee-line over to us,
cutting off a group of travelers dragging suitcases. She was pale
and bookish, with round rimmed Harry Potter-ish glasses, freckles
and a pug nose. She came right up to me.
“ You’re James,” she said,
without a shred of doubt. “This must be Karla Raeth. Hi. I’m Sophie
Cryer.”
Karla sidled up to me and took my arm.
We looked at each other.
“ Don’t be alarmed. I’ve
been asked to check in on you. Master Zhang has not heard from you.
Is there a problem?”
How the
I tiptoed down the stairs and peeked
through the peephole. There was no one standing outside. When I
inched open the door I found a cardboard box filled with
perishables: a bouquet of flowers with fresh baguettes, milk,
cheese and a small basket of apricots. I could get used to this
kind of lifestyle. It was like being a rock star without the
annoyances and obligations of fame.
I brought the stuff up to Karla and
she looked at the stuff like it was poison.
“ See?” I said. “I told you
we’re welcome here.”
She broke the baguette open and
sniffed. “It’s fresh.” She broke out into a big smile. It was good
to see her starting to get into it.
“ Smells great!”
She scrunched her face at me. “It’s
just sauce from a jar. I wish I could make fresh.”
I went back to the news. She called me
into the dining room when dinner was ready, greeting me at the
entrance with a glass of bubbly.
We sat down, with a steaming bowl of
pasta with pesto between us. A board with sliced prosciutto and
Romano cheese, some olives and artichokes.
“ How much you pay for this
place?”
“ Nothing,” I said. “It’s …
free.”
She shook her head. “Nothing is ever
free. I hope you will think about helping them.”
“ Yeah, sure. I’ll think
about it. Don’t know if I’ll be much use though, if I can’t cross
over.”
“ You need to at least try,”
she said, twirling her linguini into a spoon.
I nodded, to humor her, and mumbled
through a mouthful of noodles.
“ I am thinking,” said
Karla. “We can go up to Inverness tomorrow. That is one place I
haven’t looked for Izzie. I was afraid to go there by myself,
because … of Papa.”
“ Um. Sure,” I said. “We can
do that. Whatever you think is best.”
“ We can find Sturgie; get
him and his friends to help us. Around Papa’s people, I would feel
better if we have safety in numbers.”
“ No problem. He’s still
going to school up there, right?”
“ College? Yes, I think so.
He was only in his second year last time we saw him.”
“ Maybe we should rent a
car. What do you think?”
“ You have enough
money?”
“ I have the
card.”
She frowned. “I don’t think it is such
a good idea to keep using this credit card.”
“ Why not? They gave it to
us. I mean, if they want us to work for them, they should be
willing to cover our expenses. Right?”
“ You have decided? You are
working for them?”
“ Well, no.
But….”
“ Don’t use that card
anymore. Please. It’s not right.”
“ Karla. It’s fine. Really.
These people are rolling in the dough. Rich people die and leave
them everything. I wonder what kind of car we should rent. It would
be nice to get something upscale. I always wanted to drive a
Jag.”
***
We had another glorious night all
clean and cozy in a big, soft bed. All this luxury and
companionship was making up for all those long nights in prison on
that hard, thin pad they called a mattress.
Karla nixed my rental car idea. She
insisted that we pay cash, so we had to take the train.
Again.
I got us a pair of Oyster cards and we
took the tube to King’s Cross Station, grabbing a couple of
cucumber and goat cheese sandwiches from Pret to take along for the
ride. We had an hour before the train left so we hung around in the
food court and shops in the building besides the
platforms.
I was checking out a magazine rack
when this heavy set red-haired woman made a bee-line over to us,
cutting off a group of travelers dragging suitcases. She was pale
and bookish, with round rimmed Harry Potter-ish glasses, freckles
and a pug nose. She came right up to me.
“ You’re James,” she said,
without a shred of doubt. “This must be Karla Raeth. Hi. I’m Sophie
Cryer.”
Karla sidled up to me and took my arm.
We looked at each other.
“ Don’t be alarmed. I’ve
been asked to check in on you. Master Zhang has not heard from you.
Is there a problem?”
How the
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