A Knight in Central Park(30)

Taking long determined strides, he went to the spot where Harig had been standing when Alexandra had thrown the last stone at him. In a desperate frenzy he went to his knees and began clawing through the soil.

“What are you doing?” Alexandra asked, approaching from behind.

Joe tossed a few pebbles and a twig to the side. “I’m going to find that rock and get the hell out of here before it’s too late.”

“What about our deal?”

“I shouldn’t be here, wherever or whenever here is.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but he raised a hand to stop her. “I don’t want to know...about anything,” he said. “About your sister, or your plans to get her back. I hate to agree with your brother, because I think he’s a punk, but he’s right about one thing. You’ve got the wrong guy. I’m in Oz, and I’m well aware of the fact that Dorothy had more guts than I do. And guess what?” he asked, stabbing a dirty finger at his own chest. “I don’t care! Because no matter how many little elves pop out of the bushes and start singing, I’m not following the yellow brick road. I don’t want to meet the wicked witch and there’s no way I’m going to help you find the wizard. I’m outta here, do you hear me?”

She looked at him as if he had severely disappointed her.

Out of breath, and teetering on the edge of despair, he stood quiet for a moment, unmoving as he gazed over the fields of wheat. Chills raced up his spine as he recalled the feel of Harig’s sharp blade at his throat. He swallowed. For the first time in his life the gilded trappings of an ancient hilt had failed to impress him.

“I have a dentist appointment next week,” he blurted, uncaring as to how ridiculous that might sound. “And that important meeting Shelly and I told you about is in a few days.” He didn’t look at her, afraid she’d beg him to stay, or worse, cry.

“I can’t miss it,” he added, feeding off of his own guilt. “My future depends on this meeting.”

She didn’t say a word.

He peered into her eyes before reminding himself that doing so was probably not a good idea. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“What would you have me say?”

“How about, ‘I understand. You’ve got to do what you’ve got to do.’“

A faint sigh escaped her lips.

He looked back to the ground, letting out an excited hoot when he spotted the small silvery rock half embedded in dirt. “Found it,” he said with a hysterical little laugh.

“Listen,” he said, afraid the moon would disappear if he didn’t hurry. “I’m going to get my briefcase. There are some papers I need, but I’ll leave everything else with you.”

She stared at him. Not a tear in sight. Dry as a desert. She was one tough woman, he thought. She’d been living on this farm for who knows how many years, taking care of her grandfather and four siblings. And not a mewl out of her.

Poor Alexandra. She’d traveled through some sort of black hole to find a hero and ended up with a regular Joe, a mere mortal instead of the brave knight she’d hoped for.

And not one tear. No wonder she’d seemed like a fish out of water in New York. She wasn’t crazy like he’d first thought. No, she was brave, bold-spirited, and unlike himself...she was fearless.

He could almost taste the self-reproach that threatened to strangle him. He shifted his weight, empowered by the fact that the last stone was tucked safely within his palm.

“So,” she said, “you have made up your mind?”

He nodded.

“My father used to say, ‘a promise is a promise and a man is only as good as his promise,’“ she told him, her voice solemn.

One last stab at his conscience.

He ran a hand through his hair. “Your father was a very smart man. That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to tell you. You’ve got the wrong guy. I don’t believe in violence. I-I’m claustrophobic. Kids make me nervous, a little crazy even.” He held up his empty, dirty hand. “Look at this. It’s already driving me crazy. You know how I feel about dirt. I need hot water and soap, lots of soap.”

An awkward moment of silence fell between them.

“Where will you stay?” he found himself asking.

“With friends in the village, I suppose. ’Tis not far from here.”

She stood there, perfectly calm, as if she could will him to change his mind if she stood there long enough. It irritated the heck out of him. “I can’t stay,” Joe said again, relieved to know she had somewhere to go. “I’m not hero material. I’m a...”