My body feels like it’s turning to stone. River sits up. “It’s art, man. Don’t you recognize that? Come on, Tucks, let’s get out of here.” He pulls me to my feet, which feel as stiff as stilts.
“You stay put, friend. You’ll have to clean that up and pay for everything at the checkout,” growls the dark voice behind us. As I look over my shoulder in a daze, I see the two men in cowboy boots carrying radios.
I’m getting dizzy. Everything is over. Everything. But River starts running and drags me with him. “Run!”
As soon as we turn the corner of the double shelf, he looks around and steers me into the next aisle, which runs parallel to the one with the salt faces. An older woman with a walker approaches but doesn’t pay us any attention. River’s gaze searches the gigantic shelves. “Here!” He rushes forward a bit and climbs into a gap between a mess of cleaning buckets and packages of floor mops without letting go of me. We end up crouching together on the linoleum with the bottom of the next shelf just above our heads.
“Lesson one for disappearing unnoticed; remain nearby where they won’t look for you,” River whispers to me, carefully pushing a package with a cleaning device in front of us.
My heart is pounding so hard, I’m afraid it will stop. If they catch us now, we’ll be brought before the manager, who’ll callthe police. I’ll have to identify myself, and they’ll find out I’m still a minor.
They’ll call Dad, and then he’ll pick me up. Tomorrow, I’d have to go back to school where Chester and his friends are just waiting for me. My stomach clenches convulsively.
Steps approach, and a man curses. Through a tiny gap between the packages, I see a pair of black trousers at the entrance to the aisles. My fear turns to panic. I never want to go home again. I want to be with River forever! I’ve never felt more alive and real than I have in the last few days.
“They’re not here, boss,” a gruff male voice calls down the aisle. It sounds more like a mafia hitman than a businessman.
“Of course, they’re not there! They’re not stupid!”
“Of course not,” River confirms in a whisper, pushing his sunglasses up over his forehead. He’s crazy! He doesn’t seem afraid at all.
I make myself even smaller. The situation reminds me so much of school that I can hardly breathe.
“Hey.” River points his index and middle fingers at his eyes and gives me a mesmerizing look.Just look at me, I deduce from that look as we squat opposite each other.
I clench my fist, but the only thing that happens is that I squeeze the orange wedge, and the juice soaks into the Handana.
“I’ll let security know; you keep looking toward the exit.” Footsteps move away. They’ll probably line the entrance with security guards or let the other guards loose on us like bloodhounds.
River just grins. Through the blue-silver lens of my sunglasses, his eyes shine like sapphires. His suntanned face is dark, the whites of his eyes bright. My chest is still constricted as if I were wearing a corset.
Suddenly, my cell phone beeps.Damn!
I hold my breath. At first, nothing happens, but then the steps come back in our direction.
Please, don’t let my time with River be over yet!I plead silently. The suited man’s trousers flash again between two packages.
I feel a drop of sweat running down my forehead. With trembling fingers, I pull my phone out of my back pocket and switch it to silent. The man is standing right in front of our hiding place, probably wondering where the beep came from. Still looking at me mesmerizingly, River wraps his hands around my fingers and cell phone like he’s holding the paper crane. His hands are warm and strong, but I can’t stop shaking.
I don’t know how much time passes. When something beeps again, this time, it’s not my phone.
“Turn that thing off already!” an unfriendly male voice whispers from another aisle.
Hallelujah!I want to sing with relief.
I cautiously inhale because I still feel like I’m about to suffocate. The man growls something under his breath before his footsteps move away again.
“Lesson two; always mute your phone if you want to be invisible,” River whispers. “Lesson three; go back to the scene and toast your success.” He pushes the package aside and peers into the aisle. Apparently, the coast is clear because he climbs out and motions for me to follow.
Clumsily, I crawl out from between the buckets and cleaning supplies, and River takes my hand as soon as I stand. It feels weird because we have salt on our fingers mixed with sweat.
At the end of the aisle, River glances around the corner before pulling me along. Two young women in summer dresses come toward us. The blonde looks at me disparagingly, and the brunette stares at River like he’s a movie star, but he doesn’t pay her any attention. If I weren’t so agitated, I would be happyabout it. So, I let myself be pulled along, and River turns again into one of the intersecting aisles. He runs his two fingers over the armada of colorful bottles of spirits, ticking them with his nails. Tick-tick-tick. Like the second hand of our time running out.
At some point, he stops abruptly and, after thinking for a moment, reaches for a dark green bottle with an elegant label.
“Let’s go back,” he says urgently, so we take the same route out of the liquor aisle toward our salt faces.
“Champagne?” River lets go of me for a moment, uncorks the bottle, takes a big gulp, and passes it to me. I have no idea where I left the ice cream, but now I’m holding the dripping orange wedge and champagne in my hand.
