CHAPTER FOURTEEN

ABBY AND ALEXANDER

 They walked all night long, and Alex was exhausted and starving. The slight haze of morning rose over the rooftops as the last mist of night stubbornly crawled into the western mountains. Lights flickered as homeowners stirred from their sleep. New smoke wafted from chimneys, and an excellent mix of breakfasts drifted in the air. Alexander’s stomach complained about a loud groan. “It’s not funny,” he snapped at Abby’s smirk. “I can’t help it if I’m hungry.”

Abby grabbed Alexander’s hand as they stopped at a corner. “The park is two blocks down there.” Pointing across a sleepy, wide cobblestoned street, she stopped and looked both ways. “We’re in luck. This road would be impossible to cross any later in the day.” She grasped his hand tighter and sprinted across the street. “O’Toole wants us to go to the park farther to the west.”

Alexander stopped in the middle of the street, causing Abby to stumble. He stopped only long enough to catch his breath, while Abby regained her footing and waited patiently—well, as patiently as a mother tiger.

Alexander sighed before he motioned he was ready to go. He was too exhausted to protest. Abby grabbed his hand and tugged him down the street. The sun settled into its usual early morning spot as the last remaining wedge of the previous night’s moon stubbornly hung in the opposite sky.

Abby dropped Alex’s hand and paused as a door opened, but relaxed when the owner pushed a white fluff ball of a dog outside to do its business. The dog yapped at the neighborhood intruders. Alexander bent over to pet it, but the dog bounced away, wagging its tail. The puffball followed them for a few houses, but returned to the neighbor’s garden to finish its morning duties.

                                                                 

More doors opened as the morning symphony of city-life played an ever-constant tune. Young children popped out of houses, like toast, on their way to school. Fathers dressed in work clothing left their homes, some kissing their wives goodbye and some hugging the children. Only a few stopped long enough to notice the young boy in rags walking with the princess. A few better-dressed men whispered to each other as Abby and Alexander walked past them.

 “Grab my hand,” she whispered to Alexander. He looked at her as if she was deranged. “Do it,” she whispered a little louder.

Alexander took a deep breath and looked at his hand, and then stared at Abby, and then his hand again. Abby glared at him. He finally relented and reached for her hand and held it as if it were poisonous.

“Yes, Jack, we are to meet Momma in the park,” she said more loudly than necessary, hoping to fool the crowd into believing she wasn’t who they thought she was.

“We can stop pretending.” Alexander jerked his hand away from Abby. “They got onto the trolley.”

Abby scrunched her nose, pushed her lip out, and batted her eyelashes.

Which, I might add, is what a woman or girl does as a way to counter-attack any positive boy emotions.

“Listen, I don’t like boys any more than you like girls. In fact, I like them even less since I got tricked into babysitting you.”

“But…” Alexander lamely defended himself.

“There are no buts. I… or we, have a job to do. I would rather stick my hand in a lion’s mouth than hold hands with you. The park is down one more block. I suggest we get to the park, find a squirrel to roast, get some sleep, and wait for O’Toole and Malley.”

“Roasted squirrel?”

“That’s the spirit. I have never eaten a roasted squirrel,” Abby stated, “but I hear it tastes like, well, squirrel.” Abby offered Alex her hand. “Friends?”

Alexander gazed at the hand and sighed. “Friends.” He extended his hand to her.

Abby pushed Alexander’s hand away and gave him a big hug instead. Alexander didn’t see that one coming.

“I… I thought you hated boys.”

“Nah, I like them.” She smiled. “I said that to get you to listen to me.”

Alex couldn’t remember a time when he wanted to hit somebody, but he knew he wished the aggravating girl would be the first victim. “I was just pretending to listen to you, so there.” He placed his thumbs in his ears, wiggling his fingers, and sticking his tongue out at the same time.

Abby didn’t react the way he thought she would. She didn’t yell, scream, or break his arm. To his surprise, she laughed. The tension between them melted. She hugged him without saying a word, and for the first time he didn’t squirm and fight the hug. Sure, it was still sickening, but he thought an occasional hug wouldn’t kill him.

“Ready?” Abby asked, “The park is only about a block away.”

Alexander noticed the houses became larger than before. The front yards were all manicured and neatly mowed. Tall wooden or iron fences ran from the corners of one house to the corner of the adjacent house. Perfectly matched gates mirrored each other.

“Do you live around here?” he asked Abby.

“No, it would drive me crazy.” She smiled as she answered his question. “My house is a little bigger.”

Alexander wondered just how much bigger her house might be. These houses were five times larger than his house. He decided the only thing larger was the castle, and he doubted she lived there.

                                                                 

Abby pointed to a rusty sign, hanging on one hinge and supported by moss-covered red brick pedestals. Bent poles jutted out from the pedestals to prop up an arch and the sign, which looked to be centuries old: LIBERTY PARK.

“The King has better things to do than maintaining park signs,” Abby commented, looking around the park.

A dirt road led from the entrance while smaller roads curved off to the east and west. Trees lined the unkempt sidewalks, and ivy-covered animal cages sat empty to the left.

“How far away are we from the castle?” he asked Abby, who was more concerned with a gigantic pond to the right.

“Seven blocks to the west, and twelve blocks to the north,” she answered without taking her eyes away from a human form lying on the island, in the middle of a pond.

 “That can’t be good,” said Alex.