Rendezvous Points

If you dare, set out by the tenth hour and take the train to the place protected by the mighty kings of the jungle. From there your journey will begin.

Her friend Jeremiah had sent the treasure map tease as a joke, Isabella was sure of it. The little scavenger hunt—that's what it had to be, right?—would lead her all throughout the city, one location by one location, until she either quit or arrived at the secret destination.

The first spot was the public library location downtown. She had frowned as she stood outside the building entrance framed by two stone lions, especially because it was Sunday and the library was closed.

And it didn't help that it had started snowing and she had worn sneakers, set for a day of walking, instead of boots.

The only reward was a a note taped to the left lion’s mane.

Keen for a storied path? Head north and find the archive of tales born from near and far...

"This better be worth it," she muttered.

What awaited her was a bookstore called Pages & Ink, a little hideaway that smelled exactly of the perfume of old books and faded print. While she wandered through the aisles of new books intermixed with secondhand copies, she looked for any hints of Jeremiah among the books. Only when she circled back to the front counter did the young woman there hand Isabella an envelope.

The girl winked at her. "That boyfriend of yours is a catch."

Under the other girl's gaze, Isabella felt herself blush. "He's not my boyfriend," she mumbled.

"Well, maybe he should be, hint-hint."

You, my mother, and everyone else think that, she thought, nearly crumpling the envelope in her hand.

But once she was back out in the snow, she tore through the seal and looked down at the contents.

You may think you're seeing double when you head out and take a left at the painted pig. They're not identical twins, but their souls are the same.

"Typical," Isabella said as she took in Jeremiah's abstract instructions. At least he had taken the time to make the words pretty—as she liked them—but what did he mean by "painted pig"?

A quick Google search of things in the city brought up the nearby location of a sculpture of a tie-dye pig made by a local artist. Isabella just shook her head at the absurdity, but she still patted the pig on the head for good luck.

When she rounded the corner, she nearly laughed at herself. Of course it was another bookstore, but this one was hardly the same species as the first. A faded sign read as The Biblioemporium—quite the mouthful, that one—and the building was stout, blocky, and bursting at its wooden seams. Books were practically stacked to the ceilings, the shelves appearing to bend under the weight of all those stories. And the old man at the front of the store appeared to be asleep. Isabella practically had to tip-toe past so as not to wake him, clue waiting in his clutches or not.

She needn't have worried: a red arrow directed her to the poetry section, where no doubt Jeremiah drew inspiration when he was in his writing mood. There, on a shelf with collections ranging from Dickinson to Whitman, sat an envelope with her name on it.

She had to admit, it was a bit fun getting all these little clues to uncover (though she wasn't sure if she would tell Jeremiah that).

As she opened the envelope, a spill of confetti fell out. She just stared down at the bright balloons drawn in colored pencil on the paper, only to be followed by Jeremiah's next message:

It's a party! You'll want to bring your dancing shoes for this one because you'll tap-dance your way to the Karaoke Café where you'll sing your heart out for your next clue.

Isabella might have laughed, but a burst of panic rose in her chest as she read and reread the note. He wanted her to sing? She couldn't even remember the last time she had allowed herself to sing outside of the shower. Surely he was joking?

Still, she looked up the so-called "Karaoke Café"—a place actually called Dolly's—and saw it was just two blocks' walk away. By now, despite the lovely bookstores to start, she was fuming a little. Her feet were wet, she was cold, and this was not the day to be traipsing all across the downtown area by herself. He at least could have met up with her by now! What was the point of doing all these things by herself?

It was nearly noon by the time Isabella got to Dolly's, which to her surprise was practically empty for a weekend lunch hour. A bored-looking waitress with a knock-off Dolly Parton wig greeted her at the front. "Isabella, right?"

She found herself a little spooked, despite the fact that everyone had likely known to expect a lone girl like her wandering from place to place because of Jeremiah's hare-brained scheme.

"Er, yeah, that's me."

The waitress gestured to one of the karaoke booths. "He already picked the song for ya."

Isabella felt her heart squeeze as she picked up the microphone and looked at the screen, waiting for the song to start and the lyrics to appear. The waitress flicked a switch, and multi-colored lights began to dash across the walls and the ceiling.

"Don't worry," the waitress said. "It's just me and Chester in the back right now. You got lucky."

Isabella didn't have the chance to utter a word of thanks before the opening strains of a familiar song began to play on the sound system. She couldn't help smiling as she recognized the song from her childhood.

It wasn't that bad singing the lyrics to "You've Got a Friend in Me" even though she definitely did not have a voice like Randy Newman. It was even, dare she say it, fun.

After the song ended, the waitress grinned as she handed Isabella the next envelope. "See? Wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Not at all," Isabella said, and she meant it.

When she got back outside, even the cold air did not seem as stinging. She ripped open the envelope and honestly didn't know what to expect next.

You've made it this far! Good going! Now, if you like the good ol' Irish, you may enjoy your final stop. Do you think you have what it takes to duke it out at an old tavern?

Halfway through, she had her phone out as she Googled "nearby Irish taverns" and found a hit that was only a few minutes' walk from Dolly's. She still wouldn't say she liked the cold or the snow or even the outrageousness of this endeavor, but at least she was enjoying herself.

Donnie O'Brian's was a nestled place stuck between a newer Subway and a thrift shop. As she pulled open the door and found herself greeted by warmth, she smiled to herself.

And waiting at the bar stood Jeremiah, dressed in a puffy winter coat and jeans. His smile when he saw her was, she noted, pretty apologetic.

"I didn't know about the weather, I swear—"

"It's fine," Isabella said as she walked up to stand next to him. "I just would hate to see what you had in mind for a date or something."

The upper parts of his cheeks went pink. "That bad?"

But her scowl turned into a grin. "Okay, I'm joking. Without the snow, that would have been a great date."

"I wanted it to be perfect," he said, his gaze sliding away, and this time Isabella punched him lightly in the arm.

"Hey, don't be like that. It was fun while it lasted. I just don't like the elements, that's all."

Then Jeremiah looked back to her and sighed before gesturing to the bar counter. "I got them to bring out some wine for you."

"What, no Guinness beer?"

He looked aghast. "Any other time you order wine!"

"Okay, chill, I'm just messing with you, Jer," she said. Then she picked up the bottle from the counter. "Merlot. Nice."

"Only the best for you, Izzy."

Yet he seemed subdued, as if the excitement had been sucked right out of him.

Isabella narrowed her eyes. “Jeremiah Spence, what aren’t you telling me?”

“I don’t know, Iz. I just thought you would have had more fun. It took about a week to plan out everything.”

She uncorked the wine and poured herself a glass. “It was great. But, you know, it would have been more fun to go to all those places with you. If you get what I mean.”

He looked down at the counter. "I guess I wanted you to miss me," he said. "At least a little bit."

Isabella was quiet for a long moment. “So you did want it to be a date.”

“I wanted it to be the first, yeah,” he said, “but I was afraid you’d say no.”

“You could have tried me.”

“Would you have said yes?”

She let out a whoosh of breath. “I don’t know. But after today, I probably would.”

His expression brightened. “Really?”

“On one condition: the date has to be even better than the adventure you led me on today.”

And then a real smile, vibrant and agleam, came to Jeremiah’s face. “Challenge accepted.”

That was how the best not-a-date ended until the real first date began.