“Your parents don’t even know if you are in the house or not, I think they’ll buy it.”
“Fine, whatever works.”
“I can try to think of something better. Wait, didn't I just say I wasn't doing this?”
“Thanks Jack,” Magz smiled. It was so awkward, she didn't know if to lean down and hug him like that or what. She settled for messing up his hair a bit and attacking him with a pillow again.
“You owe me,” he sat up on his elbows. “Come back though, OK?”
“I might be like, fifty, but you’ll see me again, I promise.”
“I can’t wait that long.” He pouted.
“It won’t be that long,” she said.
“Maybe I’ll see fifty-year-old you later today. If you’re living in the eighties there will be two of you here now. You you, and old you.”
“I didn’t think of that…” she said, the headache returning.
“You didn’t think of that? Hello, first rule of time travel.”
“What do you know about time travel?”
“More than you apparently.”
* * *
Later that morning, with two suitcases, a duffel bag and a backpack stuffed full of futuristic goods and some favorite vintage treasures, Magz stood at the book room door. There was still a part of her that thought the whole thing was a dream, she was about to wake up somewhere, in her bed, in Jack's bed, on Janet's couch. She was half expecting the book room to be just a book room. That she would go in with her stuff and come out again feeling like the biggest idiot in the history of the world. And then Mindy and Jim would find out she went into a book room with suitcases and her life might as well be over.
She took the key which she'd threaded onto a long silver chain from around her neck and unlocked the door.
Twenty-Two
Interlude II
Catherine and Maria continued without Helena for a few miles down the road. As twilight began to return the stars to the sky, they arrived outside a small farmhouse with a stable for horses. Their own horse stopped abruptly, and Sister Catherine stood in silence listening for the animal’s spirit to speak to her.
“This is it,” said Catherine.
“Yes,” agreed Maria.
“No,” said Helena who appeared as if out of nowhere.
“There is magic here,” said Catherine. “We will be safe now, I feel it.”
“I don’t feel it,” said Helena kicking the dirt and crossing her arms.
“Listen,” Catherine whispered, her words riding out into the desert on the soft evening breeze. Helena was just about to open her mouth to complain again but Catherine stopped her by putting a finger to her own lips.
“I feel it,” said Maria. “It’s an old magic.”
“The magic of an ancient people,” said Catherine feeling the buzz of energy course through her body.
Elliot the horse snuffed the air gently, stamping his front hoof in agreement.
“There is no magic in this hellish place,” Helena said. “This land will bring us nothing but death. We have escaped persecution for mere extra moments of time. We should have stayed in France. We should have stayed in New England.” Her eyes became blacker than the sky above them as she carried on. “God should have let us hang after all, it would be better than walking in this desert for all of eternity.” The other women gasped, shocked that Helena, tired and weary and hungry as she was would say these things. Helena, speaking only the devil’s words continued, “It would have been better than starving. My bleeding feet, my foggy mind, I am myself no longer. We are to die here anyway so it was all for nothing!”
“You stop that right now,” said Maria. “There is magic here, if you remember your God and even yourself for once, you will feel it too.”
“I feel nothing!” Helena yelled throwing her hands up in the air looking heavenward, waving her small fists at the sky. “Why have you forsaken us?” she wailed falling to her knees.
“God has not forsaken us,” Catherine said gently kneeling on the ground next to her. “We still have each other, we have Elliot. We have our lives, the sky above and the earth below. And we are standing in a place of great power.”
“You will feel it in time my child,” said Maria.
“Stop calling me your child, I am not your child!” Helena folded her arms, her black nun’s robes getting all caught up at her elbows.
“Where did you get that?” demanded Maria, taking the girl’s wrist and looking at the strange brightly colored object which adorned it.
“I found it,” Helena said, pulling away and covering it with her other hand.
“Where?” asked Maria sternly.
“Some miles back down the road, on the top of a hill. I thought it was pretty, so I picked it up. No one is coming back for it in this place. It’s not stealing.”
“Let me see,” Catherine said gently taking her friend’s hand. The object was a vibrant pink, like that of a bright pink rose, but much brighter. It almost hurt her eyes. The material was also unfamiliar. Smooth like a thick leather, but she had never seen leather like this before. The Roman letters C A S I and O were etched on the face, as were many numerals. It was the most bizarre thing she had ever seen.
“Did you cast a circle?” asked Catherine as she continued to stare at it.
“Yes, I did. I was tired of all of you and I needed a rest. I’ve been here for many hours. I don’t know why we don’t do it all the time.”
“Because it’s naive, idiotic and dangerous,” said Maria angrily. She at once admonished herself for her anger. “I’m sorry my child,” she said shaking her head, “but you must be more careful.”
“One day you may not come back to us, you may end up elsewhere. You may end up in the pits of hell,” Catherine’s eyes began to water at the thought of it. She worried so when her friend played this game. Magic was no game, especially the magic that changed time.
“We are only to cast when we are three,” said Maria. “I will hear no more of it.”
“Do you think…” began Catherine. “No, I’m mistaken.”
“What is it, child?” asked Maria.
“Do you think we walked straight past the center of this place of power without knowing, right where we left Helena? Perhaps she knew somehow when we didn’t. Is this artefact a sign?”
“With our lack of food and sleep we may well have made a mistake. We will stop at this farmhouse tonight, and tomorrow we will go back and explore the hill again,” said Maria admitting she may have been at fault. Something she found hard to do.
“We can make this place our home Helena,” said Catherine excitedly.
“Oh?” asked Helena, “and what exactly are we going to do in this forsaken desert landscape with nothing but a hungry horse and each other?”
“What we always do,” said Maria.
“Make magic,” said Catherine.
Twenty-Three
The Preppies
“Are you feeling better?” asked Lacey staring into a plate of brown cafeteria food.
“Better?” Peggy asked through a mouth full of corn chips.
“Yeah, from your migraine or whatever,” Lacey stabbed her fork into an unidentifiable piece of meat.
“Oh yeah, I’m OK,” Peggy shrugged, vaguely remembering her alibi.
It was just another awkward cafeteria lunch. Sammy was surrounded by blondes, as usual. Nick was perched on the edge next to Rochelle, quite obviously wishing he was surrounded by blondes. Ben was stuffing his face with a burger, Tricia was rolling her eyes into her fries every time one of the blondes spoke and Lacey was cheerfully chewing on her cafeteria hot lunch, nodding her head as if to say it was delicious. Peggy took a bite of salad dropping some lettuce out of her mouth. She glanced over, and sure enough he'd chosen that exact second to notice her existence. Her face contributed nicely to the salad by turning into a tomato. She looked down at the lettuce which had very nearly fallen into Lacey’s pile of slop.
“Why do you g
et the hot lunch Lacey?” Peggy asked, trying to detract any attention from herself. “It seriously looks disgusting.”
“Huh?”
“It looks so gross. The lunch. But you always get it, and you always eat it, all of it.”
“My mom is kind of a health freak,” Lacey shrugged. “She’s doing this grapefruit diet right now and everything has grapefruit on it. Grapefruit juice for breakfast, salad with grapefruit for lunch and dinner. I eat like, nothing for dinner except grapefruit and lettuce, so I eat as much as I can here.”
“You should come over and eat with me and Janet,” Peggy offered.
“Uh, thanks, but she’s my teacher,” Lacey said.
“Oh my god,” said Leigh butting in. “I totally forgot you were like, Janet’s niece or something.”
“You don’t look anything like her,” said Rochelle accusingly, speaking directly to Peggy for the first time.
“Janet’s cool,” Peggy said to her salad. “Seriously Lace, come for dinner whenever you want.” It was the exact same thing that Jack used to say to her all the time when her folks were away. She felt for her earring and thought of his arm around her this morning.
“Sure, sure, I’ll come around for one of Janet’s frozen Hawaiian pizzas. It’ll be good ole’ home cookin’ at its finest,” laughed Lacey.
“I can cook,” Peggy shrugged, “I just don’t.”
“Hi guys!” sang a preppy brunette with a poodle perm and pearl earrings who’d just appeared behind Lacey.
“Why is a preppy at our table?” Tricia asked no one in particular.
“Oh, hey Tricia!” She smiled a huge fake smile at Tricia who scowled back at her.
“Can we help you with something June-Belle?” asked Lacey, putting her fork down on her plate and staring up at her.
“I bet you sure can!” June-Belle grinned, completely oblivious to the fact that no one wanted her there. “I know none of you guys are like, smart enough to be going to college and everything, so leaving school is kind of like, you have to go get jobs now and work all the time and so that will suck way more than high school ever did. But I just wanted you to know I’m president of the prom committee.” She announced it as if she was president of the world.
“Congratulations,” Rochelle said sarcastically as she put an arm around Sammy's shoulder and ran her hand through his hair. Peggy could’ve sworn he looked slightly uncomfortable.
“Thanks honey,” June-Belle said looking away. June-Belle and Rochelle were like chalk and cheese, sex and choir, tattoos and twin sets.
“Was there anything else?” asked Lacey. “My lunch is getting cold and I can't eat with you standing there.”
“Well sure, I wanted to tell you I'm going to be accepting ideas for the theme so if you have any you better come find me.”
“How about disco is dead,” suggested Tricia.
June-Belle, who was a fan of disco and refused to believe it would ever die, gasped.
“Prom is still months away,” Lacey said.
“I know, but it's going to take so much planning. It's never too soon to start thinking about who you're going with either!”
There was a silence as Sammy gently removed Rochelle’s hand from the back of his neck. Rochelle pouted and looked over at Nick who was practically drooling over her.
“OK y’all, well this was pleasant,” June-Belle said as she flounced off to the next table where she could be heard starting her speech over again.
“I hate June-Belle,” said Lacey. “Her accent is fake, and she’s been having a secret affair with Horace.”
Tricia spat her Diet Pepsi all over the table.
“Who’s Horace?” asked Peggy.
“Horace and June-Belle?” shrieked Tricia wiping her mouth. It was the first time she had shown any emotion apart from indifference, sarcasm and annoyance.
“She’d never admit to it, but I definitely saw them under the bleachers last month. No one believes me, but I swear it’s true.”
“That is so not happening,” said Rochelle folding her arms.
“Her reputation would be totally ruined, Horace is like the biggest dork in the school,” said Leigh.
“What were you doing under the bleachers anyway Lacey?” asked Nick.
“I was making out with Bruce if you must know,” Lacey said, slightly flustered.
“Bruce?” asked Ben putting down his second burger. “Bruce Johnson the quarterback?”
“Yeah, so what?” asked Lacey.
“Well, he’s not really your type,” said Rochelle. “You hate preppie guys and you hate sports”.
“He’s cute enough and I was bored,” she shrugged, as if making out with the star quarterback was just a blip in her day.
“Horace and June-Belle,” Tricia repeated shaking her head. “There’s no way.”
“Horace is actually kinda OK looking,” said Lacey, “if you take away the glasses and that frizzy hair.”
“Do you have no standards?” asked Leigh.
“So, what's happening this weekend?” Lacey asked ignoring her.
“It’s the weekend again already?” Peggy was getting confused, it was never the same day in the present and in the past. She was losing weeks. Losing weekdays.
“It’s Monday,” said Rochelle raising an eyebrow at Peggy.
Monday? She was losing weekends!
“Fire Station?” suggested Ben.
“That place is a dive,” said Leigh, “I don’t like it.”
“Well, I love it and you don’t have to come,” said Lacey, reaching over and stealing a fry off Sammy's plate. He pushed the plate towards her, taking one last fry and, hanging it out of his mouth like a cigarette, he looked at Peggy before flipping it into his mouth.
Her heart flipped somersaults as he flipped fries and she held his gaze, watching him chew. She felt her face turning the same color as the sauce on the side but didn't want to look away.
Sammy swallowed, smiled a half smile, the one where his mouth turned up at one corner and then went back to his conversation with Nick.
Peggy let out her breath.
Lacey giggled as she slapped Peggy's arm.
“Fire Station!” decided Ben.
“You up for it Peg?” Lacey asked stuffing the remainder of the fries into her mouth just as the bell went.
“I can't,” said Peggy putting her hand on her wrist. She frowned. She couldn't for the life of her remember when she last had her watch.
“You can't what?” demanded Lacey.
“I can't come out, I'm grounded remember?”
“That was ages ago, I’m sure Janet’s forgotten all about it.”
“She said I can go to the game on Thursday because it’s a school thing, but that’s it.”
Lacey shrugged, “OK, so we’ll go to the game.”
Ben beamed. “Awesome, so you'll all come?”
Silence.
“We’ll make enough noise for all of them,” said Peggy smiling. Her first school sports event, and she was actually looking forward to it.
She had no idea who she was anymore.
Twenty-Four
The Game
Peggy, Lacey and Nick walked into the school gym. In the present this was the crappy ‘old’ gym where the girl’s teams would practice, and the new bigger gym would have held this kind of event, but the energy was electric nonetheless. Banners in the Chariots colors of yellow and brown waved through the air, pompoms shook, and people chanted. Peggy had never been to any kind of school sporting event before and she always wondered what the fuss was. She had watched Big Mick practice a couple of times on the field from the bleachers, bored out of her mind, and that was as close as she’d ever been. But she could see it now in this tiny auditorium. It had come alive.
“I can’t believe you dragged me here,” moaned Lacey, leading them to some empty seats close to one of the baskets.
“It’s going to be fun,” Peggy said, wondering what was happening to her. She was not and never had be
en the girl who thought going to the game was ever going to be fun.
“It'll be good to see Ben play again,” Nick said.
“Yeah, yeah, I wanna support Ben and all, but everyone else here is a jock or a nerd or a preppy,” said Lacey.
“Hey guys!” A voice called out from behind them. It was Awkward Amy who actually looked way less awkward dressed in jeans and a yellow Chariots shirt. Her frizzy mess of a hair was held back with a matching yellow ribbon. Peggy could totally see her cute potential.
“Hi Amy,” said Lacey flatly.
“Hi Amy,” Nick said pleasantly.
“You’re the new girl, Peggy isn’t it?” she asked excitedly waving at Peggy.
“Hey Amy,” Peggy said.
“What's that thing in your hair?” Amy asked, trying to see the back of Peggy's head.
She put a hand to her high bun and felt the pale pink velvet. “It's a scrunchie.”
“What's a scrunchie?” asked Lacey.
“You don't know what a scrunchie is?” asked Peggy.
Lacey, Amy and Nick looked at her blankly.
“I guess they haven't made it here yet,” Peggy shrugged.
“It's really cool, I'd love to know where to get one,” Amy said.
“I could make you one,” said Peggy. Lacey gave her a look.
“Oh really?” asked Amy, looking like she was about to explode. “I’ll come down sit with you guys if that's OK?” She started climbing down the bleachers and Lacey rolled her eyes.
“Don’t be so mean Lace,” nudged Peggy.
Lacey gave a fake smile and squished over to make room for Amy between her and Nick.
“I tried out for cheer this year, but I didn’t make it,” Amy said sadly as she watched the cheerleaders run around the court pumping up the crowd.
“I don’t even know why we have Cheerleaders, it’s so sexist,” said Lacey.
Amy looked down at Lacey’s short shorts, black cowboy boots and midriff Laker’s shirt.
Class of 1983: A Young Adult Time Travel Romance Page 13