Broken Realms (Broken Realms, #1)

CHAPTER 7-3

Mara folded down the prop on Abby’s car and let the hood drop closed with a loud clap. She wiped her hands on her jeans and handed a socket to Abby, who sat on the curb next to a rusty tool box.

“The serpentine belt just needed to be tightened. I’m not sure why the guys at the garage would have had any trouble doing it, especially since they switched it out last week. Kind of obvious,” Mara said.

“Great. We ready to head out?” Abby closed the lid of the tool box, tried to lift it, rolled her eyes and sat it back down.

“Yes, we’re ready to go. Pop the trunk. We’ll take the tools in case we need to make another adjustment on the way.” Mara grabbed the toolbox and walked to the back of the car. “I get to drive.”

“Maybe I should. You might have brain damage or something.” Abby pointed to the abrasion near Mara’s temple.

“I’ll be fine. I just want to check out the steering for myself.”

“Okay, but go down Singer Hill. I want to grab a cup of coffee at that drive-through place at the bottom of the hill.”

“There’s a drive-through coffee place at the bottom of the hill?”

“Sheesh, it’s been there for years. When is the last time you were down on Main Street? You live like a quarter of a mile from there.”

“I always go out the back way. I never go down to Main. What’s the point? Nothing down there but bars, paper mills and furniture stores.”

Mara pulled away from the curb and drove north on Center Street until they came to Seventh Street, where she took a left. The street curved to the right and sloped to the left at the same time as Seventh became Singer Hill. The narrow road, flanked by cement road barriers and the bluff to the right and a railing on the left, funneled them down to a set of railroad tracks. After crossing the tracks, the road straightened and dipped once more before Mara turned into the coffee shop drive-through, a tiny freestanding building wrapped by a driveway.

“I had no idea this was here,” Mara said as they pulled up to place their order.

“Americano, black,” Abby shouted when the barista opened the window on the side of the building. “You want anything?”

“No thanks.” Mara shuffled the payment to the barista and the coffee to her friend, put the car in gear and exited left onto Main. “Looks like they have been trying to gentrify a bit down here. There’s a wine bar? And look, a Vietnamese restaurant?”

“You really need to get out more.”

“I get out plenty. I just never come down here. They’ve even installed little payment kiosks for parking.”

As they approached the brick, column-flanked courthouse on the right, Mara pointed to the small plaza next to it. “That’s new. What was there before?”

“I don’t remember, maybe dirt. A parking lot?”

They stopped for pedestrians to cross at the next block. Across the street, Mara noticed a gray fifteen-foot monument standing at the end of the sidewalk on the left. “What’s with the obelisk? The city redevelopment people going for an Egyptian theme? They planning on tearing down the paper mill and replacing it with a pyramid?”

“They installed that when they refurbished the Oregon City Bridge. Some kind of historical marker about that, I think.”

At the next intersection, they stopped for a red light while cars crossed in front of them on Seventh, entering and exiting the Oregon City Bridge to their right. Abby leaned over the dashboard and pointed to the left. “I bet you remember that.” She pointed down the cross street to a pale blue pillar cut into the side of the bluff, capped by a window-lined horseshoe-shaped observation deck looming over downtown.

“I always thought that looked like a giant alien thumbtack stuck into the side of the hill. It’s been years since I rode the elevator. Remember when we used to ride it up and down? Drove the operator nuts ’cause he knew we’d just turn around and go back to the top. I bet they don’t have elevator operators anymore.”

“Yes they do. They sit in the elevator, pressing the buttons and counting how many people go up and down,” Abby said. “They’ve remodeled the deck at the top too.”

The light turned green, and they continued on Main for two blocks and took a left on Fifth Street directly in front of the paper mill. The road curved to the right as they passed through a short dark tunnel beneath the railroad tracks. They emerged from the dark in seconds on the road to Canby. The street began to climb the side of the bluff, and, as the brush thinned out to the right, Mara caught glimpses of the river that coursed alongside them. She snapped her head forward to concentrate on the road.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“We could pull over here at the falls, and I can drive if you want.”

“No, I’ve had my quota of river gazing for the week.”

Without slowing, they whipped past the large brown sign titled Oregon History that marked the tourist-viewing area overlooking Willamette Falls. Abby stared toward the river and the old industrial buildings clustered on the far side of the river. Mara kept her eyes on the line in the middle of the road.

“You never answered me about biking tomorrow,” Abby said.

“I’ll call Bruce to let him know we’re still on.”

“Think your mom will let you?”

“I’ll chuck a couple crystals in my fanny pack. It’ll all be good.”