A Chance Mistake (3 page)

Griff whined.

“It’s okay. We’ll see what we can do.” She noted the odometer. Hopefully Bobi’s wonky map would do the trick. For once he’d had a stroke of genius.

She double checked the traveled amount when she arrived home. Just what she thought, twenty kilometers. If Kory moved about fifteen kilometers an hour, he’d arrive in about an hour and a half. But what if he was slower? He looked like he moved at a snail’s pace, but then again he was going uphill.

Griff followed close to her heels as she walked to her humble house’s front door and stepped in. By all the work that needed to be done, it was evident she was a single woman. She tossed her purse along with
The Unseen
on a chair and headed into the kitchen.

She shook her head at Kory’s choice of transportation. He could arrive anytime and she needed to be ready. “Well, Pops. What should we do?”

The pudgy man at the table didn’t answer.

****

Kory coasted down the road, thankful for a long downhill ride. The bike wavered at the high speed, and he applied the brakes which only made a squealing noise. Great. He guessed his family and Sundae would be surprised with a call from a Welsh hospital.

Who was he kidding? Sundae was probably out having the time of her life with a new boyfriend. Why did she even bother with him? Obviously, because she thought he was successful. She liked the thought of being with someone popular, and he hated to admit that he could see dollar signs in her eyes. Their goals in life weren’t the same.

He’d be happy with a small apartment and a computer to create a spellbinding world. His alternate life with characters that were his friends and foes. Sundae didn’t understand his need for time to write. But it was his career. He needed time to work. She hated the times he’d zone out, slipping into another dialog in his mind. It offended her, and it worried him that he could lose touch with his surroundings in seconds. But it was all part of the process he loved—too much.

Homes with green lawns and trees appeared. The mountains in the distance didn’t seem quite so far away. He stopped at a traffic light and pulled a paper from his pocket. According to the hand-drawn map, it wouldn’t be too long until he met the halfway point. He looked forward to coming to the village and finding a place to stay and eat dinner. His sense of adventure loved it.

He took a quick glance over his shoulder and his breath caught. Two men riding bikes were stopped at the last intersection behind him. Could it be the two from the plane? If only he could see their shoelaces, but the distance was too great.

The light changed, and he sped off. He rounded another bend and made a turn according to the map. It was a road less traveled, but homes still appeared in lightly forested areas. He looked behind him while navigating a curve. No one in sight.
Thank goodness.

His bike picked up speed on a short decline, and he moved like his life depended on it. A breeze along with cooler air emanating from the forest refreshed him. His legs were way past the burning stage and turned into weak noodles. The daily hustle from his fifth floor apartment to the corner coffee shop must not be enough to keep him in good cycling form, even though he always took the stairs. Fleetingly, he missed the security of his apartment and the comfort of his couch.

“Uh-oh.”

He’d forgotten all about the plants in his window. They’d be goners by the time he got back. His mom did have a key, but he doubted the plants would even cross her mind. She and Dad were consumed with their work at the soup kitchen. They both loved to cook and serve. What a calling—how perfect a life. If only he could feel so…what was the word?

His sister wouldn’t even notice he was gone. He smiled. That’s the way it should be. Elaine was in love with her boyfriend, and Kory wouldn’t be surprised if they were engaged by the time he returned.

He didn’t have the same overwhelming feeling for Sundae. Yeah, it was pretty much over for them for good this time. He wouldn’t miss her wrinkled nose of disgust over every little thing. In ten years or so, her nose was going to have some serious wrinkle lines. Perfect for a character. Wait—no writing. No thinking about it either.

The man with bated breath contorted his face into a wicked snarl. His nose wrinkled into fleshy creases.

Kory shook his head. “Stop. Stop. Stop.”

The road took on an incline that became increasingly steep.
Ah, help.
He hopped off the bike and walked beside it. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Good thing he had bottled water in his backpack, but he’d hold out to drink until he was at the halfway mark. Good ol’ Bobi had said at the midpoint Kory would be able to see castle ruins on a mountain ridge to his right.

Tales of King Author and Merlin came to mind—old dungeons, jousting, forbidden love, magic to move stone pillars. He’d totally take on the persona of Merlin with dark hair like a raven and a cloak to match. Live in a cave with a pit-fire outside and document the stories. Add flourishes here and there to make it more exciting. Nice. He’d navigated a full circle all the way back to writing again.

When the castle ruins came into view, he pulled off the road and downed his bottle of water, every last drop. He eyed the road ahead. It didn’t look to be all downhill. He snapped a quick picture of the castle ruins for his friend Luke. Kory had promised if he ever got anywhere, he’d take pictures for him.

He took a deep breath and set out again. One thing for sure, he’d sleep well tonight. He could almost taste the wonderful dinner of meat, potatoes, and salad. Or something like that. His room would be quaint, with a comfortable bed and a window that looked out on the land roamed by the Knights of the Round Table. All he had to do was keep moving. He could make it.

Baloney.

****

Dafina tossed a frozen dinner in the microwave, gave a button a push, and set off to her room to change clothes. Americans were so terribly fond of their jeans, weren’t they? She pulled out a snug fitting pair from the closet and studied her assorted shirts. Kory Slate…Kory Slate, writer of horror. Her fingers tapped on the wall she leaned on. Ah! She pulled out a blood red top and held it against her as she peered in a mirror.

“Oh, I don’t know, Griff. I’m just not feelin’ red t’day.”

As she looked at the dog, he appeared happy to have her attention and panted a smile. He headed toward the kitchen with a backward glance.

“Hungry are you? Okay, okay. Just a minute, poppet.”

She returned the red shirt and pulled out a silky purple and paired it with a leopard scarf about the width of a men’s tie. “Yes, and yes!”

After changing her clothes, she headed back into the kitchen and fed Griff. The microwave made a high-pitched beep, making her ears ring. Griff took one more bite of food and scampered out of the kitchen, his feet slipping on the tile floor. The crazy oven was set way too loud with no way to change it. Usually she was lucky enough not to be in the kitchen when it went off. But not this time.

She took out the hot container and slapped the contents on a plate. Grabbing a spoon, she stirred the rice a couple of times, then headed toward the table. She changed her mind and stepped into the lounge instead. No way to stomach sitting next to Pops at the table. His face had turned a bit on the moldy side. Couldn’t be healthy at all.

After eating, she paced the floor by the front window. How would she catch Kory as he went by? She could wait by the postbox and go to open it as he came in sight. He’d be hot and tired and agree to anything. She snickered. For someone who wrote such a gruesome lot, he sure appeared pleasant.

Ee—gad. Still at least an hour to wait. She’d check out a few things to make sure they were in top order, then she’d mix up some tea cakes.

The tasks completed, she sat down for a few minutes to read
The Unseen
. It was written in the male character’s view in first person. As she read, she heard it in Kory’s voice. Almost as if he read it to her or were telling the sequence of events as it happened to him. Rather disconcerting that such a thing could happen, but she liked the flow of his masculine tone.

Oblivious to the time by being lost in the tale of the old childhood house with dark corners, she peered at the clock. “Oh, dear. We might ‘ave missed him, Griff. Let’s go.”

Griff sneezed for an answer.

Before heading out, she slipped the cakes in the oven at a lower temperature than usual.

She walked down the drive to the road, Griff trotting beside her. Looking both ways, there wasn’t an indication. “Maybe if we check the dirt road? Come on. Double time.”

Dafina jogged the stretch of paved road until she came to the edge of her property where it abruptly turned to a dirt road. “See that Griff?” She pointed. “No way to tell. Maybe we did miss ‘im.” Although, she’d been reading by the window and any movement from the street would’ve caught her attention.

“Oh, no. Not now.” She spied two nubby horns behind a bush. A small bell clanged. “Watch out, Griff. Don’t let the ugly thing get you.”

****

Kory’s second wind brought on more energy. A few downhill stretches along with a moderately level road gave his muscles a good chance to rebound with the easy repetitive motion. According to Bobi’s map, all he had to do was cross a stone bridge and follow the road around a large curve. The village would then be in sight.
Thank you, Lord.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. The road came to and followed a rushing river. The clear water beside him moved in ripples over and around large rocks. The sound of the current was like music to his ears, just as refreshing as hearing a favorite song. In the distance was the bridge. He pumped harder.

When he crossed over the stone bridge, a certain happiness welled up inside. He was reclaiming his old self—the man who could accomplish anything he set to mind without being afraid or worried. How had the anxiousness settled and taken hold? And how freeing it was to have it disappear.

He stopped to turn back and enjoy the beauty of the hewn stone craftsmanship. A jolt of uneasiness clutched his chest. A lone bike rider appeared from the distant bend in the road. Someone touched his shoulder blade, making him jump. “Eahh!”

Turning to face whomever dared sneak up on him, his muscles tensed for a fight. No one there. How odd. Possibly his shirt had stuck to his sweaty skin and then let go, giving the strange sensation. Or else…no. Strange shadows clung near the edge of the bridge. Were they from clouds overhead? He looked up, uncertain. He pushed thoughts of his last book out of his mind.

He dared another glance in the distance behind him, still one rider. Not waiting to see if second man appeared, Kory sped off. He could disappear around the turn coming up, then shoot down a side street in the village. Good thing Bobi had taken the time to draw him a perfect map.

Adrenalin surged and he easily zipped around the turn. But where was the village? If anything it had turned into wilderness with a dirt path up ahead.
Dear God.
Had he made a wrong turn? What was he to do? And with possible thugs on his trail.

An animal shot out into the road. It looked like the dog from the bookstore. Kory slowed down as he neared the corgi. A driveway led up to a white cottage. “Griff?”

The dog seemed to beckon him and trotted behind bushes by a mailbox. Good grief—the bike rider would be coming around the turn any second.

Kory followed, slipped off his bike, and went to set it behind the bushes as he dodged downward on his stomach. The questionable bad guys couldn’t see him then.

“Hiya.” A woman lay sprawled out, flat on her back, a grimace on her pristine face.

“Dafina!
What on earth?
Are you okay?” he said as quietly as he could. How bizarre to be lying next to her in the grass.

“Twisted my ankle and fell,” she said under her breath.

“Oh, no.” He put an index finger over his lips and listened for any movement on the road. “I’m being followed.”

Her eyes widened. “Wh—” She looked toward a goat partially hidden by a boulder covered with lichens. The gray beast blinked at them and took a tuft of grass, munching it in a sideways motion.

Griff circled around and lay next to his mistress. The white-blonde of her wavy hair fanned out around her. The green moss and clover she rested on, only added to her ethereal beauty. Her light blue jeans had grass stains at the knees, an indicator of the mishap. A lavender blouse clung to her shapely form, and a leopard scarf joined in the exotic mix. The lightest colors of the scarf matching her hair. And the dark spots seemed to morph into cat eyes.

His head pounded as sounds from the cyclists neared. The whirring noise of tires on payment had never sounded so menacing. Dafina turned her head to get a look, but he doubted she could see anything. From his position, a slight opening gave a narrow view of the road. The cyclists passed by, two of them. As fate would have it, he saw one of the shoes clearly. It had green, tattered laces.

“Just a minute,” he whispered the words to Dafina. “Don’t move.”

Kory came to a standing position and edged his way to a tree on the other side of the drive. As he peeked around the trunk, he became hopeful. The men disappeared beyond a turn.