Apparently we’re also rushing because we have to be back at the hotel by a certain time. I have no idea why….Our train doesn’t leave until late tonight. Mimi says there is a surprise for us. Oh good—maybe it’s MORE Texans in cowboy hats.
HALLELUJAH AND PRAISE ELVIS! There’s been a reprieve.
Mom took one look at my face and suggested that she and I “take a rain check on Graceland” and spend some “one-on-one time” together.
Mimi looked a little disappointed, but Ladybug was so excited to see where the King lived, and Mimi cheered right up. They all left around seven-thirty, and Mom and I immediately looked at each other and climbed back into our beds. I think I was asleep before they got to the lobby.
Mom woke up first and was sitting in the fancy living room area, working, when I finally resurfaced from under my fort of silky sheets and soft, cushy pillows.
SARA:
I feel like a truck hit me. What time is it? What do you want to do now? Should we go out and…I don’t know…sightsee or something?
MOM:
(looking a little guilty, but with a big smile) Room service?
AND WE DID! We actually ordered room service and along came a knock on the door, which I answered, feeling totally self-conscious and idiotic. What are you supposed to do when someone shows up at your door and you’re still in pj’s and have crazy bedhead and probably dried drool on your cheek? I just stood out of the way, pretending I was really interested in the wall. New title: The Girl Who Pretended to Be a Statue. Gah.
Once the hotel person finished wheeling in this fancy cart with a white tablecloth, and taking off the silver covers on all the food, and pouring steaming coffee into one cup and steaming hot chocolate into the other, and pulled up the chairs and unfolded our napkins and asked politely if we needed anything else, he left. We looked at each other.
“Well!” Mom said finally. “Shall we eat?”
It was the best breakfast ever. Mom asked about Emily and Saanvi, and what the news was from home, and we talked about the book we’re reading to Ladybug, about a girl at the end of the nineteenth century who’s fascinated with Darwin but has to do stupid girl things instead of study science. Sometimes I forget how cool Mom can be. When she’s listening to you, she’s really listening, so hard, you can almost see her processing what you’re talking about. Between work and Ladybug, and Laurel being home (with Root, no less), and the ongoing conversations about Mimi’s writing career, I can’t remember when it was just the two of us.
I like it.
Then I tried to ask if she actually liked this train trip, and what she thought about the stupid NTFs. I kind of hinted that not only was Mimi forever peering at us all under a microscope for her book, but we also now had two nonagenarians (note: that’s a fancy word for “people who are in their nineties”) and a short kid in a cowboy hat and his dad, and it was reallyreallyreally annoying. But she shut me down. Instead she gave me a lecture.
“You need to give things—and people—a chance,” she said. “You make such fast judgments, Say-Say, and then BOOM! Your mind is made up. Be a little more open to the possibilities that new experiences bring.”
“Laurel’s always willing to try new things, and you get mad at her,” I pointed out, which might have been a mistake. Mom looked like she’d sucked a lemon.
“Your sister,” she said, putting her coffee cup down so hard that some slopped over the edge onto the white tablecloth, “is far too cavalier with her safety! That is NOT what I meant at all.”
“But she’s open to possibilities,” I said. “She’s brave about everything! And she gives everyone the benefit of the doubt.”
Mom folded her napkin again and again until it was the size of a phone. “There’s brave and there’s reckless. Don’t get them confused.” She stood up fast. “Why don’t you shower while I finish up my work? We should get out and enjoy the day.”
After breakfast, I took the world’s longest shower, since for once no one was banging on the door telling me to hurry up. It was pretty awesome, with two jets and tiny fancy soaps and shampoos and stuff. Of course I used body lotion in my hair, thinking it was shampoo, and had to rinse it a few million times, but at least I smelled good. As I stood under the steamy water, I wondered what it would be like to be Laurel, and to be so brave about everything. Even when we were little, she was braver, and now she seems like a different species. I bet she never needed a Reinvention Project. She probably barely thought about cutting off her hair, or marching in giant protests, or wearing her cool braided necklaces….She just did it. Thinking about her made my whole list feel kind of stupid. I mean, I’m trying to figure out if I can manage gray nail polish, and she’s fighting to save the earth. What’s the point, really?
Still, maybe I’ll see if we can stop in a drugstore later today. Vi’s right…the nail polish would be cool. If I can ever get this Sharpie off.
Ladybug was NOT impressed with Graceland. I’m even more relieved that I didn’t have to go. On the other hand, the NTFs apparently had a ball….They came back carrying a life-sized cutout of Elvis Presley. You know, the kind that you can prop up, with a built-in stand? Miss Georgia and Miss Ruby could barely stand up, they were giggling so hard when they came into the lobby. I was sitting by the fountain trying to read, but it was hard to keep my eyes off them. Of course Travis the Can’t-Take-a-Hint came up and peered over my shoulder.
“Howdy there, Rae,” he said, plopping down next to me on the couch. “You getting some good reading done? It was too bad you didn’t come along to see Graceland. Though you know? Hard to say if you would have liked it.”
I wanted to roll my eyes, and only managed to restrain myself by great discipline. How would he know what I like or not? But I nodded. “I wasn’t too sorry to miss it. I’m not a big Elvis fan.” My eyes went back to Miss Georgia and Miss Ruby, who now had the giant Elvis on the fancy luggage cart and were wheeling him around.
Travis laughed, a ridiculous TEEHEEHEEHEEHEE laugh. “Me neither! Not my kind of music, for sure! But it was interesting, even so. For instance, did you know he had a twin who died at birth? Wonder if they were identical. Can you imagine if that kid had grown up? An identical second Elvis?”
I had to admit, that was pretty cool. “He probably would have been some kind of ultra-shy nerd who hated attention. And of course he’d get attacked by fans thinking he was Elvis.”
Travis laughed even louder, until I was laughing too, partly at how goofy he sounded. Seriously, it sounds like a cartoon. Anyway, we went back and forth, imagining this poor dude—in our version he was a herpetologist (that would be a snake scientist, in case you didn’t know)—who would get mobbed every time he went out in public.
“No! Please! Don’t tear off my clothes! I’m Rupert Presley!” Travis said, giggling. “You’re looking for my brother, Elvis! I’m Rupert!”
“He’d probably keep a snake on him at all times,” I said. “He’d wrap his favorite boa constrictor around his neck and train it to hiss.”
It was actually pretty amusing, but then Mimi sat down, asking what was so funny and chatting away with Travis about the tour guide at Graceland. I went back to my book.
It’s not like I wanted to talk to him anyway. I was being polite. I should probably make a sign that says MIHI MOLESTUS NE SIS!
Just when I thought Root couldn’t get any weirder. UGH. Consider this draft of his “apology letter” as Exhibit A. At least we were already leaving…we didn’t get kicked out.
Back on the train just in time for bed. We saw the NTFs as we were boarding….Miss Ruby was carrying the life-sized Elvis, and Miss Georgia was lagging behind, holding on to Travis’s arm. I hurried into our roomette before they caught up to us. Mimi gave me THE LOOK, but I don’t care. We didn’t exactly blend into the crowd, and I kind of wanted to distance myself from the rest of them. No matter what Mom says, people DO pay attention to us, what with Ladybug flying Bruce on a Graceland helicopter, the Elvis cutout, and of course Root,
who has several bandages from where the ducks attacked him. Also he’s wearing a few of his new purchases, which include a new poncho, a hemp satchel that looks suspiciously like an ugly purse, and a “Peace Begins at Home” T-shirt that some volunteers were selling at the train station. Sometimes I really, really, really wish I’d hopped on a different train, like one to Alaska.
This is ridiculous. I can’t sleep. Not only is Mimi bullfrogging away, but Mom has started falling asleep to some white noise ocean sounds on her phone, and apparently the headphones have come off. Now the whoosh of waves is loudly crashing through our tiny room.
If I sit up, I can move the shade a little and peer out the window. It is crazy dark out, so dark that even as we race by, I can see stars and a fingernail-clipping moon whizzing in and out of the trees. Every once in a while we pass a house, black and inky against the almost-as-black sky, and a few minutes back we passed one with a porch light on. It looked so bright in the night, brighter than Memphis or even New York City. But it was only one tiny porch light. There was someone sitting on the porch too. We went by way too fast for me to see much, but someone was out there, watching the train go by. I wonder if he or she could see me peeking out the window.
I wish I had waved.
Laurel would have waved. Heck, Laurel would be halfway through her Reinvention Project list by now, not avoiding Latin verbs and stuck in turtle pose in yoga and too chicken to even wear the cool yin-yang tank top she packed. Laurel would never sit around and endlessly mull over a stupid list. What’s wrong with me?
I won’t be that person either. Not anymore. Enough with waiting around…Semper Audax is going to be my new motto. Starting Right. Now.
Well, starting in the morning, I guess.
But wait.
I could start now. I mean, really commit to this whole thing in a…what did Laurel say when she shaved off her hair? She called it “an outwardly visible way to show my commitment to shaking up the status quo.”
Maybe that’s what I need! There’s no real reason I can’t dye my hair in the bathroom, right? I mean, Mimi and Mom are both sound asleep, and by the time they wake up, it’ll be done. And I know it’s just hair dye, and it’s not going to change my life, let alone change the world, but still. It’s something different. It’s an outward commitment to my Reinvention Project. Something visible and obvious that no one can miss that says Sara—I mean RAE—Johnston-Fischer is definitely a different person than she was before this summer! Carpe diem! Let’s do this!
I’m taking the fact that I got the hair dye out of the suitcase under my bed without waking anyone as a good sign. And really, all I need is water, which I can get from the sink, and a clock. As long as I don’t leave it on longer than twenty minutes, everything should be fine. Mom and Mimi will have to learn to live with it….It’s only a few inches of hair. I can’t wait until we have Internet again and I can send Vi and Em a photo of the finished product! I wonder if they’ve done theirs yet….Maybe I’ll be the first!
Wow, this stuff smells awful. It’s making my eyes water. Also, it’s harder than it looks to make it even. I started with around two inches, but then the train lurched and I went up higher on one chunk of hair, so I had to do the rest of it higher to make it match. Then I went higher on the other side, so I had to even up the first side. But I think it’s even. Or even-ish, at least. I can’t really tell, since I can’t see the back or sides very well. And of course I can’t keep a shirt on, since it would turn blue, so I’m wrapped in a bunch of train towels. Still.
I. Am. Doing. It!
OHMIGOD. What was—
Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no. This cannot be happening. THE FREAKING TRAIN BROKE DOWN AND I AM STUCK. WITH BLUE DYE IN MY HAIR.
I was writing and waiting to rinse it off, when the train gave a crazy lurch, then another one, then the power went out, including the air conditioner and the water and EVERYTHING. I fell off the toilet, where I’d been sitting, and my hair flung over my face, and the tub of blue dye went everywhere, and Mimi fell off her bunk and everyone started yelling and screaming at once. DID I MENTION THE STUPID DYE IS STILL IN MY HAIR? It’s supposed to stay on twenty minutes. Twenty minutes, and no longer. And it has been forty-five minutes. FORTY-FIVE. I have no idea what will happen. Will it be a brighter blue? Or paler? Who knows?
Mom and Mimi don’t even know yet because the power’s off and it’s still totally dark, except for the tiny emergency lights on the floor. Mom did say, “What’s that smell?” but Mimi said it must be related to the train, and that was the end of it. I’m writing on the floor, using the emergency light to see the page, so who knows if I’ll even be able to read this? But who cares??
WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO? We don’t even have bottled water, because our refillable water bottles are in the other compartment—thanks, Root—so I can’t sneak into the bathroom and pour it over my head.
I am so dead. Of course who knows where we are and if we’ll ever get moving again. It’s insanely hot in here, so maybe we’ll all pass out from heatstroke and they’ll find the train years from now with a bunch of skeletons and a box of blue hair dye. Okay, I know we’re not actually that far from Chicago and we’re not about to be abandoned here, but…this is almost worse. This is bad. This is reallyreallyreally BAD.
Train just started moving. Now the conductor’s talking through the speakers, telling us all we’ll be making an emergency stop while they “assess the extent of the damage.”
I too will be assessing the extent of the damage…on my head. I AM SO DEAD.
Oh, this is really really really bad.
Really bad.
When we finally got out at the station, the lights hit my hair, and Mom screamed. Actually screamed.
“Sara! What’s happened? You’re—you’re…What have you done?”
That’s when I reached up to pull a piece of hair toward me, and it came off in my hand. I grabbed another piece, and again, it just…dissolved. It wasn’t blue. It was kind of a pale white, but more to the point, it was gone, crumbling in my hand.
THE HAIR DYE HAD EATEN MY HAIR. RIGHT OFF MY HEAD.
“Water!” I yelled, running onto the platform. “I need to rinse it off!”
Mom caught up to me. “Rinse what off? What did…How did this happen?” Then she looked closer, and her eyes got wide. “Miranda, hand me a water bottle. Every water bottle we have. NOW.”
Mimi must have grabbed them from Laurel, because faster than I could blink, Mom started pouring water over my head. All along the platform, travelers in their pajamas and robes were staring. Apparently the fact that the train had broken down in the middle of the night was nothing compared to watching a grown woman trying to drown her daughter with bottles of water.
To make things even more horrifying, Travis came running over. “Holy smokes! What’s going on here? Can I help?” he asked, his voice coming from somewhere behind me.
“Bring any water bottles you have! It’s probably too late, but…” Mom answered.
Travis ran off, then came back. “Got some, ma’am! Should I pour it right on her? Here we go!” There was another, icier splash of water as Travis added his bottle to the Drown the Idiot game.
I couldn’t help it. Tears hit my eyes hard and overflowed. Pushing past Travis and Mom, I ran toward the side of the platform, where at least the lights were dimmer. Seconds later Mom and Mimi came running after me.
“Sara? What the—” Mom stuttered before finally blurting, “What’s going on here?”
I tried not to sob. “I’m sorry! I didn’t…I was only trying to dye the ends blue. It was only the bottom few inches. Well…” I sniffed. “It was supposed to be, anyway. I had to make it even. But I didn’t know this would happen!”
Mom stared at me like I was from Mars. “Dye the ends blue? Where did you even get the hair dye? Why did you think this was okay?”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.
“Your hair…,” she started, then paused, shaking her head.
> I sunk to the ground, not caring that I was sitting in a puddle of gross water.
“It’s not my fault! The dye was only supposed to stay on for twenty minutes! How was I supposed to know the train would break down?”
“The train has nothing to do with this! I can’t believe you used such poor judgment. But meanwhile…your hair is gone. You’ll need to cut off most of what’s left, to even it out. You’ll be lucky if it comes down to your chin. And furthermore…”
She paused so long, I finally looked up, and the look on her face was NOT good. “What?” I asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Sara,” she said, squatting down next to me. “You’ve also managed to dye your left ear a vivid ultramarine blue. It’s not coming off. At all.”
My hair. Is gone.
And I’m dyed blue.
I stared at her, thinking that she would fold me into a hug, telling me it wouldn’t be so bad.
But Mom wasn’t done. “What on earth was going through your head? What made you think this was okay? Honestly, Sara, I’m…well, I’m speechless! Did you consider for a minute that you should have asked permission?”
“Carol, why don’t we calm—” Mimi tried to say, but Mom shot her a look, and she went quiet.
“Well? Can you answer me?” she asked, still glaring.
“You would have said no!” I shouted.
“You’re darn right we would have! What a ridiculous, misguided…Why did you even do this in the first place?” she asked.
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