A Summers Wind
A Summers’ Wind
Curtis has always secretly loved Rita. They are forced to flee to save their lives. Under a new identity Curtis has to start his new life without Rita. He meets the tough beautiful tomboy daughter of an Idaho rancher, and over time falls in love with her. Things get complicated when Curtis and Rita are reunited, just as their old enemies catch up to them.
Action/Suspense/Romance and new beginnings are what you will find in A Summers’ Wind
The following sample is only part of chapter 1.
1 Rita
The acrid body odor emanating from the masses stuffed into the overloaded subway car, made Curt hold his breath as much as he could. People talk about rush hour in some cities like there was something mystical about it. It was time when the masses went in motion. They seemed to want to be the first one home or the first one to work. In New York City, the streets are never calm except perhaps during the very early morning hours between two and six in the morning.
Though it seemed impossible, on that day, Curt thought that the car of the train was fuller than usual. Curt's thoughts raced back to his childhood home, away from the alien harshness of the towering concrete buildings and the populated streets. He pondered over the fertile green rolling hills of upper New York State.
While yet a very young boy, he had been happy playing with friends in the neighborhood. They played mostly on the deserted street. The street wound its way slowly through the lush country side, which made up the area around Curt's home. Life was full of carefree leisure days. It seemed everything centered on the sublime little rambler house.
Each night after a long day at the office his father would return home. He was never too tired to do a little yard work, fly kites, or play catch with a baseball. There was time for model trains in the back room and sometimes even doing things for Curt's mother. Oh! She would have cookies, a pie, or some other delicious smelling treat baking, especially for the moment when his father would come home. It was a distant memory, like a nearly forgotten movie he may have once seen.
The perfect life had ended for him in a traffic accident, which stole his parents away. At the tender age of 13, he was taken from that perfect life. Curt's transition into the concrete jungle had been one of confinement. He was alone. He was separated from his parents, friends, and all the people he had known. He was taken to a place of exile; with an uncle he had seen only a time or two in his entire life.
He found himself in a city of anonymous humanity; who like shadows, seemed to be in constant motion, aimlessly hastening toward obscure destinations. It was a place where survival seemed to depend much upon aggression and primal animal cunning and instinct. It was a perilous place for a polite shy person, who walked alone among the legions in perpetual motion.
Curt's attention was instantly torn from the fond memories of his childhood, by the shriek and brief braking of the abrupt slowing train. The braking commenced the involuntary sway of fellow passengers. The collisions of bodies in the aisle way, like the chain reaction of dominos, knocked the people standing off balance and sent them careening into each other.
The lucky ones had a good hold on the rings hanging from the ceiling, or had a hold on the pipes bolted to the ceiling and floor. Both were put in the train for the purpose of support during the turning and undulating motion to which the passengers were subjected.
The passengers were still shuffling for footing to keep themselves up right, when pressed upon by the surge of people clamoring to get out. This was followed by the pushing and shoving of a new wave trying to get on, which increased the clumsiness for everyone. Curt found himself being swept along by the stream of people who were hoping to exit. He thrust out an arm and seized one of the very few empty rings secured to the bar on the ceiling. With the anchor held tight, he was able to sidestep the wave of passengers, frantically pushing through to the encumbered exit.
At last he found some comfortable footing from which to gain a little security for the remainder of the ride. Soon the train started once more. The train broke out of the darkness found below, and into the light and heat of the sunshine above. With the new light, Curt turned his attention to the window and the blur of buildings just outside the train. A view of pinnacles, which made up the skyline of the city, stood hazily against the slightly yellowed air of the visible horizon.
It seemed strange to Curt, to be traveling in this near mayhem, without the hindrance of a backpack full of books, along with the long tubes, which safeguarded his drawings. It would indeed be odd to do something different, after four and a half years at the university. Truly the day was a day for reflection. It marked the end of so many things.
He thought of meeting Rita a few stops further on. He knew that she shouldn’t be there. However, he also knew that she would be there anyway. She had supported him through everything, regardless of the risks. He knew that even though it might put her very life in jeopardy, she would be there for him.
At long last his stop was in sight. Rita was easy to see. He was suddenly afraid for her. She had been foolish. He hoped to get her away quickly.
She was the only true individual that Curt could remember meeting. Many spent their time and effort to look different, but most still acted the same. He had met several other people, many of whom he liked very much. None of them however, had truly been individuals.
They had all become part of the masses. They never wanted to do anything that would make them be noticed for whom they really were. They all wanted recognition, but not the attention that went with it. Attention brought risk, and risk brought pain and sometimes worse.
Though everyone had their own personality, which made them different, no one wanted to move outside the crowds in which they moved. She, on the other hand, was willing to do the right thing, no matter the consequence. She didn't seem to care if it made her stand out. For Curt, it made her an individual. Because of that, it somehow made her more real than anyone else.
She was not strikingly beautiful. She was not extraordinarily cute, or even altogether friendly. Still, she was the friendliest person he knew. Nevertheless, one thing was certain, she was exceptionally individual. She was clearly the pilot of her own life. Once her decision was made, there was no swaying her. The only person that could change Rita’s mind was Rita herself. Curt felt an emanating glow growing inside him, as the train screeched to a halt. He always felt that glow whenever Rita was around.
The accustomed chain reaction began again, only this time Curt was one among the masses pressing toward the exit. He couldn't help noticing the discomfort in the faces of many, who were now clinging to anything they could get a hold of. They were fighting the tidal wave of pushing and weaving people who were anxious to disembark. Once outside, the stampeding masses began to disperse into the more roomy area of the platform. They pushed past those pressing to board the train behind them.
Rita raced to Curt's side. "How did you do?" She bubbled with excitement.
Curt took a couple of deep breaths, hoping to flush his lungs of the sour air, to which he had been exposed. "Well enough to pass I believe," he spoke quietly amid the busy crowd.
“And your project?” she went on.
“I think they liked it,” Curt nodded, but his fear was nearly choking him. “Why are you here? You know –.”
"Oh I'm so happy for you, Curt," she boomed, interrupting his concern. "You've done it. You've got your degree." She leaned forward and raised herself high enough to give him a quick peck on the cheek.
"I haven't really got it yet," he protested only slightly.
"Oh, but you have," she smiled. "You've done the work and well enough for a passing grade. Just think, now you’ve got your degree and you already have a job waiting. What else do you need?" she asked teasingly. "Surely you don’t need that little piece of paper that says 'Mr. Curt Melroy has satisfied the requirements to complete his Master's Degree in Structural Engineering and Architecture,’ do you?"
"Well the wording isn't quite right, but yes that's exactly what I had in mind." He smiled pleasantly and felt the warmth of the moment wash over him. "I'm glad you were there for me," he said taking hold of her hand. "I really mean that. Were it not for your support–."
"And constant pushing and meddling," she said sarcastically.
"Yes, exactly so," he continued. "I could never have done it on my own," he admitted.
"You could and you did," she said sternly.
"No. I would have never stuck with it and you know it. You were always there for me. You helped me believe in myself," he said, pulling her close. "And that has made all the difference. You have helped to change my whole life." He took a deep breath. "You helped me find something of worth about myself, and a reason to improve. You have helped to give me a future."
"And protect yourself?" She suddenly seemed preoccupied.
"Yes, even that," he agreed.
"Look out Curt," she whispered. “Beasts!”
Curt turned, following the direction of her gaze. He saw four leather clad brutes walking briskly toward them. "Come on Rita, maybe they haven't noticed us." Curt turned grabbing her arm and stepped a couple of steps toward the exit, but there were two who wore a matching set of clothing coming from that direction.
"They must have followed me here," Rita muttered. "Stay here. I'll go talk to them."
Curt grabbed her shoulder and stopped her short. "No!" He said abruptly. “They aren’t here to talk.”
"No, you're right," she agreed quietly. "We're in trouble, aren't we?"
Curt only nodded. He tried to move her behind him, but she stepped quickly away to remain at arms length. He saw an opening, he grabbed her and pulled her quickly toward the train, but uninvitingly, the doors crashed closed and the many cars launched into motion.
The two young people turned back and took a few steps toward the hostile on comers.
"That's close enough Spider," Curt spoke up above the noise of the train pulling away. The rest of the crowds seemed to have dissipated.
Spider was walking a pace ahead of the rest. He was a thin tallish fellow, with very large hands. His hair was shaved on the sides just over the ears, but what was left was thick, black, and seemed, well groomed. His leather attire was loose, yet set him off smartly. He had a handsome face. His straight white teeth were showing from his Cheshire smile.
"Close enough for what?" Spider asked sarcastically, still advancing.
"Don't force me to do this Spider. I don’t want to do anything we’ll both regret,” Curt pleaded.
The short fat youth on Spider’s right flipped out the blade of his butterfly knife. He wasn't smiling, his attention seemed was fixed on Curt's eyes. Curt had expected to see a gun, and he was wondering when he would. Perhaps he would not get time to see it.
Curt heard the snap of another blade being exposed from his left where Rita was standing. He didn't need to look, he knew she had one. Though he had never seen her draw it out in public, it was something they had discussed on many occasions. He was amazed that any of them had gotten their weapons through security.
“Stop Spider!" she demanded loudly. “Nobody has to get hurt here. You can decide to stop this, if you want to.”
"Stop!" Curt shouted. He could hear running coming from further to his left. There seemed no stopping the inevitable. Curt clenched his fists. "This is stupid Spider," Curt tried while a feeling of dread was building inside him. He expected to be shot at any moment. Curt turned sideways to face Rita, and glanced quickly at the advancing pair from the exit. "Now stop it, Mickie, before someone really gets hurt!" Curt tried again.
"This isn't the school playground," Spider countered. "You both know what’s coming and you know that nothing can stop it."
"Just like your friends knew that they could be arrested for selling drugs," Rita called. “Please Michael, you have a choice.”
Spider seemed suddenly nervous as he surveyed the setting. "I have no choice Curty. If you join her, you know what will happen," Spider’s voice seemed to have changed to grave remorse. Curt looked over at Rita, who seemed to be quizzing his intentions with her eyes. Curt's own pause was discomforting to himself. He hated what Rita might have thought of it. Then when Rita motioned with her head for Curt to leave, his mind was made up.
"I can't leave Spider. You know I can’t leave. You know that it is you, who must leave. This is Rita, not just anybody off the street. You can’t do anything to Rita. I know you." Curt brushed away a couple of unwanted tears that had begun to block his vision.
There really wasn't any choice for either of them. Curt knew the stakes for both sides were very high. Each of the three had a foot on the scale. Whichever way it tipped meant life or death to each. Curt knew that he faced a group who had no moral fiber. As morally bankrupt as they were, they were nonetheless ruled by an unbreakable code.
If Curt stayed, they would surely kill him. Spider had committed himself. Spider’s own followers would turn on him if he didn’t follow through. Someone would die and someone would live, but the certainty was, that someone would die. It was the code of his enemies. Curt’s own code would not let him leave Rita alone. His love for her would never allow such treachery either.
Then in a fraction of a second, one of the two from the exit to Curt’s left, lunged within reach. It was too late. There was no going back. Without hesitation, Curt kicked the youth between the legs as hard as he could. The young fellow gave a groan and dropped to his knees, carelessly dropping his knife.
© Copyright 2016 by Jene Beal all rights reserved.