opened a window then turned towards Frankie who had asked the question.
"There is something else out there for me that has nothing to do with my father’s money, or his constant demands."
"Let me tell you something, Eva, I wish I had some rich guy’s demands on me. In our neighborhood we never know what’s going to come down. Last week, some dumb-ass kid got high on glue. Got his hands on a gun and shot up his family because he thought they were telling dudes from outer space to take him away. Killed his grandmother, and wounded his kid brother. Now this gluehead, he needed some demands on him."
Eva sat down on a large, plush couch.
"Well, when you two come to San Francisco with me, you won't have to worry about your neighborhood. It’s all about love out there.”
George smiled. He wasn’t convinced that love was the answer to all his neighborhood’s problems. He walked over to where Eva was sitting and planted a warm kiss on her cheek. She took George and Frankie’s hands and said,
"Come on, I'll show you two the rest of the house."
She led them down a long hallway into a bedroom. When Eva switched on the light, posters of rock stars stares back at them from the walls. There were music records piled in every corner, and on the floor, the fanciest stereo they had ever seen.
"What's all this?" Frankie asked, walking around the room.
"It's my hide away. It's my place to get away and groove."
"So why go to San Francisco?" George said.
"Because that’s where everything good and pure is happening.”
Frankie walked around the large bedroom. There were two large windows overlooking a lush rolling field. A fireplace and a large four-poster bed filled one side of the room.
"Who’s this?" Frankie asked, picking up a photograph from an old oak dresser.
Eva took the photo from him, transfixed as she looked at the woman's face in the picture.
"It's my mother when she was in college. She was studying to be an actress at Bennington. Then she met my father."
George walked up behind the two of them and looked at the photo.
"She's beautiful, you look just like her."
"People say that. I believe her soul traveled to me when she died." George and Frankie shot glances at each other.
"Come-on, there is so much to see in this house. Let me show you the basement."
They followed her down an old wooden staircase to the basement, into a large room with stone walls and a huge hearth. A large mahogany bookshelf ran the entire wall. In the center of the room was the biggest pool table Frankie and George had ever seen and in the corner was a fully stocked bar.
"Help yourself. My father keeps the bar for his friends, but he never comes here since my mother died.”
George stepped behind the bar and found two beers in the refrigerator. He opened one then slid it down the bar towards Frankie. Frankie caught it just in time as it went by, then shook his head at George. George opened the other for himself, took a healthy swig, then asked Eva what she would like.
"Nothing. Come-on, follow me, I want to show you something."
Eva walked over to the large bookshelf and moved a row of dusty books to one side, then pushed a panel that was hidden behind them. A section of the bookshelf swung open like a door and led into a dark tunnel.
"What the hell is in there," George asked, sticking his head into the tunnel.
"It's part of the underground railroad from the Civil War. Slaves would come up from the south trying to get to a safe haven. The original owners of this house were Quakers. They would hide the slaves here for a while then move them further north.”
"Hear that, Frankie, your ancestors probably came through here? Unfortunately, they made a wrong turn at the projects."
"Very funny, George, very funny."
"Come-on, let's go in," Eva said, leading the way.
Eva crept through the tunnel with Frankie and George following her.
"Hundreds of runaway slaves came through this station. They would stay here for a few days, rest up, get some food, and then move on.”
George and Frankie listened intently to Eva. Neither one could take their eyes off of her. She seemed wise beyond her years. They walked further into a large, damp room. It had a dirt floor and stone walls with water dripping through cracks, and it had the stale smell of animals. In the center was a wooden table as old as the house itself. Small stalls built to hold animals lined the perimeter of the room.
"That's where the slaves slept," Eva said, pointing her finger towards one of the stalls. “There are underground passageways that run from this basement right down to the creek out back. They use to put the slaves on small boats and take them further north. But many of them just didn't make it."
"That's screwed up," George said, running his hand along the damp walls. He couldn't help but think about the cave he and Frankie had found under the river. Was all of this underground stuff somehow connected?
Frankie stood close to Eva.
"This is my history here. This is what happened to my people. And you know something, we're still running."
Eva took Frankie’s hand.
"I love coming down here and just walking around. It can be real scary down here at night. You can still almost smell the fear and hope that these people experienced as they moved north. It’s all around us.”
The three of them stood quiet.
"And you know something," Eva said, breaking the silence. "My father doesn't even know that this exists. He's always too busy to see what's right under his nose.”
George turned towards Eva.
"So how did you find out about this passageway?"
"I was reading one of the old books in our library about the houses in this area. It mentioned secret passageways that lead down to the river. One day about a year ago, I was in the den looking at a book when I accidentally pushed a panel and the whole bookshelf swung open. I've never told a single person about this place. You two are the first to know. And now it's our secret."
"You never told your father?" George drank the last of his beer waiting for an answer.
"No, why should I? He wouldn't care. He's in his own little world."
"What about this whole San Francisco thing? What does he think about that?" Frankie asked, picking up a rusted pair of leg irons.
"He thinks it’s just a phase I’m going through."
"What if daddy cuts off the old money, says that unless you go to college there won’t be anymore money coming your way?"
Eva walked up to George and
