I crossed my legs and brushed up against something under the table. When I bent to the side to peer underneath, I found not only my childhood crayon drawing of Ms. Patty, but also a note taped to the grain of the particle board. I ripped it off and quickly scanned more scrawled handwriting:Ride the blue horse.
My eyes darted around the diner. No blue horse here. Nothing outside, either. At least, none that I could remember.
I stared out the diner window, scanning the sidewalk, and noticed a blue Mustang idling loudly at the curb. Blue horse! But it wasn’t Daniel in the driver’s seat—it was Joseph, from work.
“Hey,” a woman’s voice said behind me.
I swiveled in my seat to face the bright red hair of server Shonda—akaTONY THE TIGER, according to her name tag today, taking off her coat, as if she was on her way to clock in or had just been on a break.
“You’re supposed to get a ride from that guy in the Mustang,” she said, pointing out the window. “That’s what your lovebird tipped me to tell you. There was a note or something?”
“I just found it. Thank you!” I quickly left cash on the table for my tea, scooted out of the booth, and strode outside to the Mustang.
Joseph ducked his head to me through the window and gestured for me to get inside. I opened the passenger door and slid into the seat while the engine rumbled. “Hey,” I said. “I’m supposed to get in the car with you. Sorry I’m late. I didn’t find the note in time.”
“No worries,” he said. “I’ve only been here a few minutes. Had to drive around the block a few times to snag this parking space.”
“What now?”
He checked his rearview mirror as I put on my seat belt. Then he put the car in gear. “Now you refrain from asking me where I’m taking you.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not supposed to tell you.”
“Just a hint?”
“Daniel wanted you to wear a blindfold, but that’s a little too kidnappy for my tastes, so just keep your eyes down, yeah?”
That was hard to do. And after a couple of blocks, I gave up. We were headed out of downtown as a purpled twilight fell over the city. I asked Joseph a rapid-fire series of questions, trying different angles to get him to spill the beans about this mystery hunt that Daniel had arranged, but he was buttoned up tight.
We sped down Second Avenue and turned north on Broad. After a couple of blocks, Joseph stopped at a red light and discreetly texted someone. When I asked if that was Daniel, he merely said, “You’ll see.”
I went through a dozen possible scenarios in my head, trying to figure out where we were going. Seattle Center was on the left, along with the opera house—something I wished I could forget—and then Joseph was taking a quick turn into a driveway marked with a valet-parking sign. We went around a fountain before coming to a stop. A middle-aged African-American woman in a blazer waved at us.
My heart pounded furiously.
I peered past the woman and stared at colossal, white metal legs that stood at the base of a towering urban structure I saw every day I came into the city. It was iconic and weird, an engineering miracle, and it kicked the Eiffel Tower’s ass any ol’ day.
It all happened so fast. One minute Joseph was stopping the Mustang and jumping outside. Then next he was talking with the woman in the blazer, and she was opening the passenger door and waving me out.
“I’m Martha,” she said, smiling. “You’re Birdie? You’re to come with me.”
I gave Joseph a look that saidI’m freaking out right now. Please help me.And he gave me a shrug that said,You’re on your own now. Before I could protest, I was briskly led away by Martha and swept into glass doors. We passed the gift shop, where tourists browsed T-shirts and glass cases, and then hiked up a curving ramp, skipping past lines of people. It was all I could do to keep up with her hurried gait as she swept me into an elevator and closed the door on all the people gawking at us.
Then we began ascending.
“So,” Martha said as we rose over the city, flashing through the glass. “Normally I’d tell guests that we are climbing five hundred and twenty feet at five miles per hour. And that the Space Needle was built in 1962 for the World’s Fair, and the total height is over six hundred feet, which made it the tallest building west of the Mississippi for a few years. This your first time up here since the renovations?”
“Since I was a kid, so yes. Also, my first time in a private elevator.”
“My first time taking anyone up privately, so we’re even.” She unfolded her arms as the elevator slowed and thendinged. “And here we are at the observation deck.”
“But what am I supposed to do now? Is there an envelope you’re supposed to give me or—”
“Enjoy,” she simply said, urging me out of the elevator.
I stepped onto the round, flying-saucer section of the tower: the observation deck. An enclosed inner area that had been recently renovated with clean, smooth lines: white floors and ceilings, modern benches, and floor-to-ceiling windows that sloped outward to form the Space Needle’s distinctive shape.
