The Spanish Kidnapping Disaster Read Online Free Page B

I could hear her breathing. Although she didn't snuffle and snort like Phillip, I coudn't forget she was there, right beside me.
    As quietly as possible I rolled over a couple of times, trying to find a comfortable position, but I couldn't stop thinking. My brain just wouldn't turn off. When I banished the man from my thoughts, Grace popped up and took his place. I saw her face again, her gold earrings, her long red hair. If only I could grow up to be like her, free and beautiful, a citizen of the world.
    Now that it was too late, I was sorry I had lied to her. It didn't help to remind myself I'd probably never see her again. I just couldn't stop feeling bad about all the crazy ideas I'd given her. No wonder Amy didn't like me. I really was a dope sometimes.

6
    The next morning, after a lot of misunderstandings and confusion about breakfast, checking out, and loading the car, we finally got under way around nine o'clock. Since none of us seemed improved by our night's sleep or our morning activities, Don put "La Bamba" in the tape deck, turned it up as loud as he could, and drove out of Toledo.
    While he and Mom sang along with the music, I pressed my face against the window and watched the tile roofs, the cathedral, and the Alcázar gradually shrink and disappear into the distance like a dream of a city.
    "Someday I'll come back," I thought. "I'll drink
café con leche
in the Plaza de Zocodover and watch the lights come on in the city. I'll have my own little house with a balcony and a cat to keep me company. And I'll wear a flower in my hair. A citizen of the world, that's what I'll be."
    Leaning back in my seat, I touched my earrings and tried to picture my grown-up self, but it was Grace's face I saw, not mine. As the scenery flashed by, brown fields,
bulls, olive groves, little towns with balconied apartment houses, I wondered where she was and if I would ever see her again.
    ***
    The castle in Segovia more than lived up to Grace's description. It was so beautiful it hardly seemed to belong in the real world. Like a palace in fairyland, its walls glowed against a cloudless blue sky. On the towers high overhead, the yellow and red Spanish flag fluttered in the breeze.
    After going through the usual confusion of buying tickets, aggravated by Phillip's misguided attempts to translate, we went inside. While Mom read us passages from her guidebook describing the Moorish influence on the castle's architecture, we wandered from room to room until we found a spiral staircase leading to the highest tower. The steps were steep and narrow. People were pushing their way down as we climbed up, and I had to fight to reach the top without being shoved down the stairs. When I finally stepped out into the sunlight, though, the view was worth every inch of the climb.
    Wandering away from the others, I leaned over the parapet and gazed at the distant mountains. Far below me, a hawk floated on the breeze, its wings spread like fingertips.
    As I watched the hawk dip and glide, I heard Phillip say, "That's her?"
    Turning around, I saw him and Amy staring at someone standing beside Mom on the opposite side of the tower.
    Although the woman's back was to me, her red hair was unmistakable.
    "What's Grace doing talking to your mother?" Amy asked me.
    "How should I know?" Anxiously I shoved through the crowd of tourists separating me from Mom and Grace. A woman frowned at me when I stepped on her toe, but I was too worried to apologize. I had to reach Mom before anything was said about horses, swimming pools, or Jacuzzis.
    Pushing my hair behind my ears to show off my hoops, I slid in between Mom and Grace.
    "You're right," Mom was saying to Grace. "I've never seen such a beautiful view."
    Don smiled and nodded, but he was too busy taking pictures to talk.
    Mom was the first to notice me. "This nice woman has been telling me about the castle, Felix, and the things you can see from here," she said. "For instance, those little specks on the