Just for A Summer

Chapter Five

Kate, Shred, and I split the check at Dave's and I hop on Moira outside while the couple stays to chat with Sammi.

Where could Rocky have gone? The question races through my mind. I don't know him as well as Shred and Matt do, and out of all of us he's been the most of a mystery. In fact, I have no idea where he would be if he's not with us or at the BikePlace.

An idea comes to my mind, so I swing off of Moira and run back inside the pizzeria. As I barrel through the door I run smack into the middle of Shred's chest.

"Woah Liz, where are you going?" he chuckles as I back out of the doorway.

"Actually, coming to find you," I laugh, straightening my hair. "Where's Kate?"

"Oh, Sammi wanted her to see some recording equipment or something like that," Shred replies, "so I decided to wait out here. What was it you needed so badly?"

"Do you know where Rocky might have run off to?"

"Oh," he says with a stormy look on his face, "Right. Well, he could be at the airport."

"The airport?" an incredulous look is probably plastered on my face. "What in the- why would he be there?"

Shred gives me a what-can-I-say-smile and shrugs. "He goes there to chill out sometimes. It calms him to watch the planes take off and come back."

"Okay. Thanks Shred, I really appreciate it."

"Yeah, no problem. I hope you can do some good for him."

I give him a quick hug, then slide onto Moira and ride off down the street.

Fifteen minutes later, I ride past the main building of Key West International Airport. Rocky is nowhere in sight, though his bike is chained to the bike rack in front of the structure. Where could he be?

Then, a thought hits me. I walk around the side of the cheery tan building and see a metal chain-link fence that stretches out beyond where I can see, almost to the forest. There is a warning sign stuck in the ground a few feet from where I'm standing. I hesitate. Would Rocky really have risked it?

Yes, of course he would've, I decide. And so I duck under the flimsy rope apparently meant to keep people out and go to find Rocky.

After what seems like hours of walking but is probably more like thirty minutes, I reach the end of the expanse of fence. I haven't seen any sign of Rocky, and by now I'm annoyed that I had to come all this way and not find him. It occurs to me that he could be on the other side of the fence, but I'm too exhausted to even think about walking all the way back down, let alone trudge back up the other side of the enclosure. I decide that I need a moment of rest, and sit down on the ground. I sit in silence for a moment, listening to my own breathing. I've spent all this time trying to find Rocky, but I have no idea what I'm going to say when I get to him.

A loud thud knocks me out of my head, and I hear a grunt of frustration. I look around, worriedly. What was that?

I start to get up, bracing myself for someone to come running out out of the trees with a machete (crazier things have happened in this town), but then I realize that the thumps seem to be coming from the trees.

A series of thumps and noises assault my ears as I inch closer to the tree line, still scared that there's a murderer hiding in the midst of the green. However, I tell myself I owe it to myself to go check it out. I grab a large stick for protection, and begin to make my way through the brush, trying to make as little sound as possible.

If you've ever walked through a forest, you know how hard it is to make no noise. Sticks and leaves crunch under my feet as I tiptoe towards the source of the banging.

After a tense five minutes, I come to a small clearing. There is a large sack hanging from a sturdy tree branch, which I recognize as a punching bag. A shirt is at my feet. Most importantly, however, is the source of all the noise, the figure standing in the middle of the clearing, shirtless and shining with sweat.

Rocky.