by B. C. Harris
“Emily, are you okay?” Radwin asks with concern.
“Yes, I will explain everything later.”
Radwin hovers beside me, both his heads reflecting his interest in my well-being.
My computer beeps. Someone is in our chat room.
WISDOM: Glow, where are you? There are police and teachers rushing around the school looking for you.
I quickly reply.
GLOW: I’m home. I need to destroy the hard drive on my computer.
“Squirt, Radwin, let’s get something to eat,” I say as I wait for Jamie’s response. Who knows when we’ll get another chance?
“Eat, eat, eat,” Squirt shouts.
Rushing up the stairs, I fly to the kitchen, open the fridge, grab some milk, cheese, and fruit. Then quickly reaching into a cupboard, I snatch some nuts and cereal.
I hear my computer beep downstairs.
“Eat whatever you want,” I say, as I pour a glass of juice for myself.
I charge back down the stairs.
Jamie has responded.
WISDOM: Glad you’re okay. Comic Man is emailing you a file. When you open the file a virus will immediately destroy your hard drive.
I reply.
GLOW: Thanks Wisdom. I have one other favor as well. I need the address of my late aunt in England. I need to visit her family.
As I await a response from Jamie, I open my email. There are a few junk messages as well as a response from Michael. There’s also an email from my mother. How is that possible? She has been arrested.
There’s a loud banging upstairs. At first I think that Squirt or Radwin might have dropped some food on the floor, but as it continues I look at the security monitors in front of me. It’s the police.
I run up the stairs like a mouse fleeing from a cat.
“Radwin, Squirt, we’ve got to leave.
The banging is getting louder. An aggressive voice is telling me to open the door. Do they really know I’m in the house, or are they guessing?
Sprinting to my bedroom, I grab my school backpack and empty it on my bed.
As I bolt back to the kitchen, in spite of the terror I’m facing I laugh at the mess that Radwin and Squirt have created. There’s food everywhere, covering the table, and the floor. There’s even some milk splashed on the walls. Normally, I would be concerned about my mother’s reaction to such a mess – she tends to be a neat freak – but I know right now this is hardly important.
The banging at the front door stops. The silence is terrifying. What are the police going to do next?
“Come on,” I say to Radwin and Squirt as I turn away from the kitchen. At the last second as I’m charging towards the stairs, I notice my mother’s laptop sitting on a counter in the kitchen. It’s recharging. She must have left it there this morning by accident.
I pivot my feet doing my best pirouette and snatch the computer from the counter. At the same moment, I realize I will need some money. In the cupboard above the computer, I grab an envelope that my mother keeps in the event I ever need a few dollars for an emergency. The envelope feels much thicker than I remember it. I drop it and my mother’s laptop into my backpack and head for the basement.
I lock the heavy basement door behind us as I hear the front door being ripped off its hinges.
Bounding down the stairs, I rush to my computer. I need to open the virus that Michael sent. As I gaze at my email once again, my cell phone beeps.
It’s Jamie. He has texted me the address of my aunt’s family in England. Even though there’s an urgent pounding on the door leading to my basement, I’m in awe of Michael and Jamie’s computer skills. They seem to be able to accomplish anything. How did they ever find my dead aunt’s address?
I open the file that Michael emailed to me. Instantly the screen on my computer begins to spiral out of control.
I watch my computer die.
I hear a ripping sound at the top of the stairs. I guess that the door is being pulled away from its frame.
“Radwin, Squirt, get inside my backpack.”
Radwin, who is about the length of my arm, does not fit easily into the backpack. He curls himself like a horseshoe in order to stay out of sight.
The only place I can visualize in London, England, is the big Ferris wheel along the Thames River: the London Eye. I once did a project on it.
I hold my emerald and begin to focus. I picture myself standing near the London Eye. Just as I’m about to state my new destination, I realize I made a mistake. In my haste, I forgot to open the email from my mother. What if it’s important? Glancing at my computer, I see the screen turning into a jumble of numbers. It’s too late.
There’s a large crash at the top of the stairs. The door has been smashed off its hinges. It tumbles menacingly down the stairs.
I stare into the emerald.
I focus.
I clear my head of all thoughts except for the huge Ferris wheel in London.
“Sandarium, London, England, the London Eye.”
- 31 -
THE EYE
As I gaze upwards at the Eye, I had no idea that it was this gigantic. I remember doing a project a few years ago at school on the Eye, hoping that someday I would actually get to see it.
If I remember correctly, it’s the largest Ferris wheel in Europe. Some people say that it’s a landmark for London in the same way that the Eiffel Tower is synonymous with Paris. When I did my project I remember thinking that nothing could be as symbolic to a city as the Eiffel Tower, but now that I’m standing here I must admit that the Eye is pretty impressive, although as I look along the Thames River what could be more iconic that the historical Parliament Buildings and Big Ben in the distance?
I made it! I escaped the police. Who would have thought that it would be the police and not some burglar or evil alien who would smash into my house?
Radwin pokes his heads out of my backpack as Squirt jumps onto my shoulders.
“What’s that?” Radwin asks, a little fear in his deep voice.
“A mighty monster,” I tease the doadling, but judging by his reaction, he takes me serious as he hides in the backpack.
“No, no,” I laugh. “Radwin, it’s not alive It’s not some kind of creature. It’s called a Ferris wheel. People ride on it for fun to be able to see the beautiful sights of this big city.”
“Ferris wheel, Ferris wheel, Ferris wheel,” Squirt squeaks as he jumps up and down on my shoulders.
This is not any ordinary Ferris wheel. Instead of chairs that might seat three or four people, it has large glass-sided pods, something like gondolas at ski resorts, that can hold twenty-five people in each one. If I remember correctly, there are thirty-one, or is it thirty-two, of these pods representing each of the boroughs in London.
As we watch the pods slowly moving on their circular path, I look once again along the Thames River. In the other direction I see the famous Tower Bridge. Now that’s a familiar image that is more symbolic of London that the gigantic Ferris wheel beside me.
I notice a woman and two children who have stopped in their tracks and are staring intently at Squirt. Their interest in him brings me back to reality. I’m in London. I must find the family of my aunt without bringing any undo attention to myself. Squirt needs to stay hidden.
“Squirt, get back in my backpack We’re here on business, not pleasure.”
A stern look from me gets the required results. In a flash, Squirt jumps into my backpack. As I begin to walk, I notice three little heads bobbing up and down inside my backpack that I’m carrying in front of me.
The sun is beginning to set. I remember Capurni once telling me that when I used the emerald to travel to another world that time would stand still for me, but when I used the emerald to travel on my own planet, time would continue as normal. I think there’s a five or six hour time difference between my home and London.
It’s early evening here. Soon it will be night. Although I can’t imagine any dangers that could be facing me in this
sprawling city, I’m certain that I don’t want to be wandering alone on some of its streets once darkness descends.
A double-decker red bus, another part of London’s recognizable identity, passes by. I stare at it, wishing I had time to go for a ride and see all the wondrous sights of this historical city.
In addition to the familiar bus, I notice black taxi cabs weaving in and out of the traffic. There’s something unusual about the traffic. I realize the cars and buses are driving on the opposite side of the road. It’s as though I’m seeing a mirror image of how things are back in my country. The vehicles are driving on the left hand side of the road instead of the right. Most peculiar, the drivers are sitting on the right hand side of the car instead of the left.
I have no idea how to get to my Aunt’s house, unless of course I use my emerald. I debate whether I should use the emerald or a taxi. I decide to take a taxi instead. This will give me a little time to lower my anxiety level.
I raise my arm to stop a taxi. It’s confusing to me because they’re traveling in the direction that’s opposite to the way I think they should be moving. I tell myself to be careful whenever I step off the curb because the cars might be coming at me while I’m looking in the wrong direction. The closer I get to the traffic, the more disorientated I feel.
After a few taxis pass me, I put more emphasis into my arm waving. I step off the edge of the sidewalk. I notice that the taxis have yellow signs on their roof. Some of these signs are lit up while others are dim. I suspect that the lights signal whether the taxi is available, or not, although I’m not sure how to actually interpret them.
A cab comes to a stop adjacent to where I’m standing. I notice that the light on its roof is glowing brightly. I open the door and jump in.
I’m greeted with the luxurious feel of leather. This is a much nicer taxi than I’m accustomed to being in.
The accent of the driver’s voice reminds me once again that I’m in England. I smile.
The driver, a man who gives the appearance of being a chauffeur for a wealthy Londoner, asks me where I’m going.
For a moment I panic. Where am I going? The address that Jamie texted to me is still on my cell phone.
As I put my hand into my backpack to locate my cell phone, Squirt giggles. He thinks I’m trying to tickle him.
“Shh,” I say to him.
“What did you say?” the taxi driver says.
I find my phone. Fortunately the traffic is moving so slowly at the moment that the driver is not in any great rush to find out where I want to go.
“Gower Street,” I reply. Just as I’m about to add the house number, I have second thoughts. If by some remote chance someone is tracking me or following me, it would be a good idea to get out of the cab before my aunt’s house.
“Do you have a specific place on Gower Street that you would like to go, such as the British Museum?”
I jump at the opportunity the driver has given me. “Yes, the British Museum is exactly where I want to go.”
Does my aunt’s family live on the same street as the British Museum? How cool is that? I can get off at the Museum and then find my own way to my aunt’s house.
As quickly as I’m excited by the ensuing adventure, my mind fills with doubts. Will my aunt’s family let me into their house? Will they know anything about my father?
“You’re an American,” the driver says, more of a statement of fact than a question.
“Yes,” I reply. Then I add, “My mother is here on business so while she does a little work tonight, I’m going to visit the museum.”
I feel good about my spontaneous answer, although I catch a glimmer of doubt in the driver’s eyes in the front mirror.
Did I say something wrong?
- 32 -
A PUZZLING SURPRISE
The taxi ride was unusually quiet after I said that I was going to the British Museum. It seemed like the moment I said this that the taxi driver changed his demeanor. He kept glancing at me through his rearview mirror with his beady eyes as though I had done something wrong, but by now I’m paranoid of anyone even looking at me.
We crossed Westminster Bridge. I recognized the House of Parliament and the famous clock on the tower high above the buildings. Most people think that the clock is called Big Ben, but I once read that Big Ben is really the enormous bell that’s inside the tower. I know that this site has been in use for more than 1,000 years. First it was a Royal Palace, and then from the sixteenth century on it housed the British parliament.
After Big Ben, my mind wandered. Watching the endless river of people walking along the streets, I wondered how many of them were concerned about what was happening in Rome. Did they even care? What would they say if they knew that I might be the only person on this planet who might be able to stop Santtonnice?
As I looked at the Christmas decorations in many store windows, I was reminded that Christmas is only four days away. What is Santtonnice intending to do on this day?
After what seemed like an hour of driving, I notice an intricate fence bordering a sprawling building. I know that it’s the British Museum. I’ve seen its picture before.
This museum is the home of the famous Rosetta Stone. This was the relic that finally allowed scholars to decipher the Egyptian hieroglyphics. I also know that the museum has an extensive display of Egyptian artifacts that I would love to see if only I had more time.
As the cab halts in the heavy traffic about a block away from the entrance of the museum, I remember I need to pay the driver. I see the amount owing on the meter beside the driver. I also note the time. It’s 18:10. Although the city is lit up with endless lights, night has fallen.
Unfortunately I don’t have any British currency. I suspect it won’t be a problem if I use American dollars.
Reaching into my backpack I feel the soft fur of Squirt. He giggles as my hand strokes him. Both Squirt and Radwin have been so quiet that I forgot about them.
I touch my mother’s laptop, but I can’t find the envelope I brought from the kitchen. As the taxi begins to creep forward, I panic. What if I lost the money?
After checking everywhere in the bag, I still can’t find the envelope.
Bending forward, I whisper to Squirt and Radwin, “Have you see a white envelope in the bag?”
“What’s an envelope?” Radwin asks.
The taxi cab comes to a stop.
The driver turns and smiles at me.
“Here we are. This is the British Museum. You do realize that it is now closed for the day?”
Closed? Is that why he reacted so strangely to me when I first said that I wanted to go to the museum?
For a second I consider using my emerald to escape the cab without paying, but with the driver staring at me, that would be awkward.
In one last effort to locate the envelope, I pull the laptop from the bag with one hand while my other hand pushes Squirt and Radwin to the side of the bag.
Unexpectedly as I move Squirt, my fingers touch what feels like an envelope. I pull it out of the bag, breathing a silent sigh of relief.
Just as I thought back at my house, the envelope is heavier than I would have expected.
As I open it up, I gasp.
There are hundreds and hundreds of dollars inside the envelope. It’s almost as if my mother, before she took me to school this morning, realized that I was going to need a great deal of money. How could she have anticipated this?
As I leaf through the wad of $50 bills, my heart skips a beat. At the back of the American bills is another currency that at first I don’t recognize. As I look closer at these bills, I realize they are British pounds. My mother placed some British currency in the envelope.
What in the world were British pounds doing in the envelope?
- 33 -
IS SOMEONE WATCHING ME?
Once I’m out of the taxi, I start to walk away from the museum as though I know where I’m going.
Turning casually, I note that the taxi is stil
l standing at the curb where it let me off. Either the driver is curious to see where I’m going, or I have someone else to worry about.
I shuffle away from the museum as though I know where I am. I decide to walk back past the taxi cab. Interestingly, the moment I start to walk in that direction, the cab moves, except that the traffic is so congested that it barely makes any progress.
I continue to walk along the street. I look for the street numbers on the shops and houses. Soon, I realize I’m heading in the wrong direction.
Not wishing to attract any more curiosity from the taxi cab driver, I duck into the first store that I see. It’s more like a convenience store back home. Quickly I realize there’s only food inside the store.
There are three small tables near the window at the front of the store. One of them is vacant.
After ordering a sandwich, some nuts, water, and some fruit, I sit down at the table.
Placing my backpack on my lap, I drop a bag of nuts into it. Remembering what my kitchen looked like after a few minutes the last time Squirt and Radwin ate, I smile as I consider what the inside of my backpack is going to look like by the time we leave this store.
It’s nice to get some food into me, although I’m constantly surveying the crowd of people on the sidewalk. Anytime someone looks towards me I think that they are coming to get me. It’s a horrible feeling not to be able to trust anyone.
As my mind wanders, I wonder what’s happening back home. I guess that my mother is in jail. Even though the evidence appears to be stacked against her, I still believe that she’s innocent.
What about my friends? With the arrest of my mother and my disappearance, will they give up on me?
There’s a guy standing against a wall on the opposite side of the street. He’s staring directly at me. He’s wearing jeans and a black T-shirt. He’s tall and thin, but a muscular sort of thin. He has a dark complexion as though he hasn’t shaved in a week. His dark hair is greasy. He definitely doesn’t look like the kind of guy I want to have as an enemy.
How long has he been there? Am I being too paranoid?