conducive to a good night’s sleep.” I smile weakly.
“Sorry. It didn’t go exactly as planned, but I suppose it never really does.” She forces a smile. The edges of her mouth crinkle into a frown.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing.” She looks away for a moment before she speaks again. “It’s silly, really. It’s just you’re growing up so fast!” Mona starts to tear and gives me a big hug when I reach the bottom steps.
“Mona, you’re acting like I’m going on my first date or something.” Really, she’s acting like a real mom.
“I know. You’re right. I guess I’m a little emotional. In our world, it’s a coming of age thing. I only wish Eliza was here to share it with you.” She gives me another long hug.
I don’t respond, but of course I wish the same. I wonder if Mona’s reaction would have been Mom’s? I hope so. The thought makes me happy.
My mind flutters with dreams of a life with the woman I never had a chance to know, but I push them back, trying to control my emotions. I can’t go down that road of thought again. I spent the entire night thinking about her. That’s why I’m so exhausted... and too hyper. I might break out in manic laughter or tears. I’m an emotional basket case waiting to explode.
Mona pats me on the back. “Are you ready?” she asks.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I mash my lips together. I’m eager to get the day started.
Déjà vu hits me when we reach the Academy. I’ll be starting a new school—again. The campus, as before, is carpeted with wind-swept snow. This time, a lifeless courtyard sits before us. It’s 7:30am on Saturday, after-all. Most every one of my new friends is still nestled in their beds, sleeping.
When we reach the stairs to the main entrance they’re perfectly clear of ice and snow. Each crevice is scraped clean. The building is a stately and beautiful replica of the west building. The inscription above the columns reads, TEMPUS RERUM IMPERATOR. I don’t know what the Latin words say, but it gives me a wave of unease. I’m reminded of the seriousness of my new situation: I have no idea what it really means to be a Wanderer. My stomach turns. Focus Sera. Just think about Mom.
When we reach the top of the stairs, Mona places her thumb on a recognition pad next to the front door.
“Seriously? They make you scan your thumbprint to get in?”
“Yes, of course. We just can’t allow anyone to enter.”
The door beeps approval. Together, we push the ornate door open and enter a vestibule. We continue through another set of doors and into the main lobby
I’m not sure why I assumed that this building’s interior would be the same as the west building’s. Maybe it seemed a reasonable prediction on my part, but I should have realized that nothing from now on would be—well—predictable.
The room is open and airy to the ceiling. Soft light from the early morning trickles in just enough to make silhouettes out of every object before us. My eyes lock on the ceiling where a glass dome and elongated archway dominate the entire space.
It’s so similar to the Galleria Umberto in Naples, Italy, that I can’t look away. Ray and I took a short weekend trip to Naples when we lived in Rome. For hours, I lingered in the shopping arcade, snapping photos of every possible architectural angle, yet never truly capturing the beauty.
I exhale, in total awe of its elegance.
Two birds playfully flutter in the dome above. They swoop to the bottom of the room then rest on two sweeping staircases. Statues of women, with baskets sitting at their feet, guard the steps that lead to several levels of arched windows and terraces.
Mona grabs my arm and pulls me forward into the room. Our steps echo. The acoustics are so incredible that I suspect that if I whispered something to her it would easily be heard on the top floor.
Nylon wheels rolling across the room captures my attention. Their rotation reverberates through the hallowed out
“Sorry. It didn’t go exactly as planned, but I suppose it never really does.” She forces a smile. The edges of her mouth crinkle into a frown.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing.” She looks away for a moment before she speaks again. “It’s silly, really. It’s just you’re growing up so fast!” Mona starts to tear and gives me a big hug when I reach the bottom steps.
“Mona, you’re acting like I’m going on my first date or something.” Really, she’s acting like a real mom.
“I know. You’re right. I guess I’m a little emotional. In our world, it’s a coming of age thing. I only wish Eliza was here to share it with you.” She gives me another long hug.
I don’t respond, but of course I wish the same. I wonder if Mona’s reaction would have been Mom’s? I hope so. The thought makes me happy.
My mind flutters with dreams of a life with the woman I never had a chance to know, but I push them back, trying to control my emotions. I can’t go down that road of thought again. I spent the entire night thinking about her. That’s why I’m so exhausted... and too hyper. I might break out in manic laughter or tears. I’m an emotional basket case waiting to explode.
Mona pats me on the back. “Are you ready?” she asks.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I mash my lips together. I’m eager to get the day started.
Déjà vu hits me when we reach the Academy. I’ll be starting a new school—again. The campus, as before, is carpeted with wind-swept snow. This time, a lifeless courtyard sits before us. It’s 7:30am on Saturday, after-all. Most every one of my new friends is still nestled in their beds, sleeping.
When we reach the stairs to the main entrance they’re perfectly clear of ice and snow. Each crevice is scraped clean. The building is a stately and beautiful replica of the west building. The inscription above the columns reads, TEMPUS RERUM IMPERATOR. I don’t know what the Latin words say, but it gives me a wave of unease. I’m reminded of the seriousness of my new situation: I have no idea what it really means to be a Wanderer. My stomach turns. Focus Sera. Just think about Mom.
When we reach the top of the stairs, Mona places her thumb on a recognition pad next to the front door.
“Seriously? They make you scan your thumbprint to get in?”
“Yes, of course. We just can’t allow anyone to enter.”
The door beeps approval. Together, we push the ornate door open and enter a vestibule. We continue through another set of doors and into the main lobby
I’m not sure why I assumed that this building’s interior would be the same as the west building’s. Maybe it seemed a reasonable prediction on my part, but I should have realized that nothing from now on would be—well—predictable.
The room is open and airy to the ceiling. Soft light from the early morning trickles in just enough to make silhouettes out of every object before us. My eyes lock on the ceiling where a glass dome and elongated archway dominate the entire space.
It’s so similar to the Galleria Umberto in Naples, Italy, that I can’t look away. Ray and I took a short weekend trip to Naples when we lived in Rome. For hours, I lingered in the shopping arcade, snapping photos of every possible architectural angle, yet never truly capturing the beauty.
I exhale, in total awe of its elegance.
Two birds playfully flutter in the dome above. They swoop to the bottom of the room then rest on two sweeping staircases. Statues of women, with baskets sitting at their feet, guard the steps that lead to several levels of arched windows and terraces.
Mona grabs my arm and pulls me forward into the room. Our steps echo. The acoustics are so incredible that I suspect that if I whispered something to her it would easily be heard on the top floor.
Nylon wheels rolling across the room captures my attention. Their rotation reverberates through the hallowed out
Similar Books
