Right then, I would have done anything for an icy cold Diet Coke, but that wasn’t an option and I was left with the yuck of post-vomit taste in my mouth. I glanced with desperation toward the creek and, after a little contemplation about leaving the safety of the tree, I decided to take my chances getting a mouthful of water. The water burbling through the creek had haunted me for over a week so; the creek should revive me from my parched state.
As far as I could tell, I was alone. I crawled through the soft green grass not wanting to disturb the occupants of this magical place, from dried twigs crunching beneath my bare knees to birds nestled among the dense, lush branches behind me. I cupped my hands and dipped. Water had never tasted so good or felt so refreshing. My heart pounded loudly in my ears, it was as if I had been running for my life.
Oh my God! What were Charlotte and Kate thinking when I vanished from my living room and into the painting? Did they realize where I am? Could they see me? I dared a tiny wave in their direction. “Breathe Lexi, just breathe.” My voice sounded so foreign and distant in my ears.
I crawled back toward the safety of my tree and leaned back allowing the fresh breeze to swirl around me. Next problem. How to get out of here?
I was still in my pink linen shorts and matching cami pajamas, loose bed hair that hung half way down my back, un-brushed teeth, and bare feet. So, heading down into the city might not be a proactive solution. The only thing was, what else could I do? I stood and peered in the opposite direction, hoping for a sign of something, anything.
No road signs. Nobody out walking their dog—but wait. Someone was coming. I jumped back behind the tree just as a dozen men dressed in Roman soldier uniforms trotted along the road toward me. They looked just as regal and proud as they’ve been portrayed throughout history. The maroon and silver uniforms and silver helmets could be spotted from miles away. I didn’t dare breathe or move a muscle.
After a few minutes, they disappeared behind the city walls. Had I actually seen Roman soldiers on horseback? Going into Pompeii—the same city that was wiped out by a volcano thousands of years go. I felt like vomiting all over again.
Holy heaven above
.
Chapter Five
The sun began its descent over the golden fields. How long had I been here? The warm breeze had turned cool and blew a little stronger. I wished I had worn my robe. Note to self,
if you’re ever back here, dress warmer
. Ha! I couldn’t believe I was actually contemplating a return visit. And I hadn’t yet figured out how to leave.
I smiled at the thought and rested my head against the tree, ignoring the throbbing ache that pulsed down my back from sitting on the hard ground so long.
Something whistled through the air. I perked up to listen. It sounded like a guided missile. Which, for some reason, struck me as funny. Suddenly I was falling backwards, tumbling into complete cold darkness.
Next thing I knew I was standing in my living room—in the same position from which I’d been sucked into the painting. The DVD clock read 5:29. An hour had passed. An hour! Yet, in Pompeii, I’d sat by that tree for most of the day.
Charlotte and Kate were pacing the living room floor. From the twisted looks on their pinched faces, they’d been stewing with worry. They rushed to me.
“What the hell happened? One minute you were with us and the next minute, you were being sucked into the painting.” Charlotte was practically hyperventilating with every breath she took.
Kate looked shell-shocked. She stared at me and then the painting as if expecting something else to come flying out.
“I’m okay, I’m okay. Shhh! Stop screaming, you’ll wake the neighbors.”
Defusing Charlotte was a losing battle. She nervously coiled and uncoiled her hair around her fingers.
“I promise, I’m fine. I can’t believe it, but I time traveled to Pompeii. I was inside my own painting.” I felt like a whack-job saying the words.
Ugh! But it was the truth.
As nutty as that was, whatever that was, I knew one thing without a doubt: I needed to go back as soon as humanly possible. I wanted to explore the city, blend in with the locals, and find out the real reason behind this insanity.
A surge of energy coursed through my veins as I brainstormed my next steps. I was excited and scared at the same time. I had stumbled upon a rare passageway to another world. The fact that I made it home meant the passageway was open for me. I had to believe I was chosen to participate. Why else would the painting come alive for me?
I couldn’t help but think of the antique store owner who sold me the painting. He’d said this was a special painting. Did he know its secret? If he did, had he used the portal himself? If so, why give up the painting?
Did he intend me to have it? No, I thought, because I had picked it out myself. He was nowhere near the attic when I discovered the painting. Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen him ‘till I was paying for the painting.
I was convinced I was destined to buy this painting. Whether the store owner was privy to its secrets or not would remain a mystery until I talk to him again.
What about the way Mrs. Ashton kept examining the painting and looking at me for a reaction? Did she suspect it was enchanted? I could tell her what happened this morning and feel her out. I trusted her wholeheartedly. If anyone had insight about such things, she would. For all I knew, she’d probably time traveled herself. If she hadn’t, she knew something about it or knew someone who did.
Regardless of what I found out, I was all in and nothing would deter me from going back. I just needed to crack the logistics code for such worldly adventures and research every detail known to the modern world about ancient Pompeii. To pull this off, my research had to be thorough and precise. First order of business, convince the girls this was a good idea and then recruit their help by assigning each of them a different topic so all our bases were covered.
I wondered if I should explore using a different name for my alter ego identity while I was there. I doubted Alexandra Carter would blend in. Hmmm!!! I made a mental note to add the name exploration to the list of research. I also needed to figure out the time travel portal in the painting so that I was always in control of going and coming.
Based on the last week and my recent trip to Pompeii, it would be safe to assume that the portal opened from four-thirty to five-thirty a.m. on my end, but what time did it open and close there? It was the beginning of dusk when I fell into the portal, returning home. So is it open at dusk there and dawn our time? Was the window for traveling just an hour? There was sure a lot more I needed to know about time travel. Could I get stuck between worlds?
Coming home was a complete fluke. I needed to know how to return every time. Somehow I also needed to figure out what year it was. Remembering tidbits from World History my senior year, there was a massive earthquake and then a volcanic eruption that completely wiped out the city. Not a sole survivor. The last thing I wanted was to visit during the wrath of Vesuvius.
Feeling like a schoolgirl on the first day of a new year, full of anxiety, anticipation and excitement, I couldn’t help but grin widely, hurting my cheeks. A shudder vibrated down my spine as I headed for a hot shower, almost in a trance forgetting that Charlotte and Kate were still shell-shocked by my sudden disappearing act.
Charlotte was full of questions about my actual time there; the softness in her tone almost deceived me into believing she was on board with anything related to time traveling. I answered all her questions patiently in hopes I was easing their minds that doom awaited me on the other side. Our silence was deafening.
“Sorry, my mind is racing…for obvious reasons.” I swallowed the large lump in my throat before declaring my intention to go back.
“Have you lost your mind?” Fiery Kate rejoined the living from her hypnotic state and was pacing around me in circles, stomping her feet like a disgruntled toddler. She looked completely deranged with her spitfire red hair fanning her face in a tangled mess.
We agreed to discuss my situation over coffee and scrambled eggs, which I gladly whipped up. I watched them eat—anxious to know their thoughts. Neither had said a word except “pass the sugar” since we sat down.
“Want more eggs?” I asked. “We have to figure out what to do next.”
“Want more eggs? We just saw you get zapped back in time and you want to eat eggs and FIGURE OUT WHAT TO DO NEXT!” Kate screamed.
I prayed my neighbors didn’t hear.
Grumpy little grouch. Damn. Damn. Damn.
“Lexi, you realize how insane this sounds, right? I mean, this kind of thing only happens in movies or while smoking something illegal, which we know you don’t do...”
God bless Charlotte and her tactics.
“You saw me vanish from this living room. What more do you need? This is partly why I’ve held off telling you guys about the painting in the first place. I wanted to be sure of what was happening first. And now I know. I mean, I was there.” I pointed to the tree in the painting.
“How is this possible?” Kate was desperately trying to maintain a level head, but I knew her, and I knew she was nursing a massive headache and the early wake-up call wasn’t helping. Fair enough.
“I’m going to pour more coffee.”
“Lex, do you have any Adv—”
“I’m on it, Kate.” I was headed to the medicine cabinet before she finished the sentence. Taming Kate was the first order of business. Once she felt better, everything else would go much smoother.
Ten minutes later, we settled back on the couch drinking coffee and eating toast with strawberry jam in silence. Every few seconds one of us sneaked a peek at the painting. Wheels were turning in my head.
“So…could you see me under that tree?”
They nodded miserably, confirming the realness of what happened.
“We did see you, but it doesn’t make it easier to accept. We were petrified of what might happen to you. Besides, even though I know what I saw with my own two eyes, I just don’t know if I believe in magic. I’m a nice Catholic girl dammit. I’m not into this wizarding crap.” Kate looked exhausted, a black shadow circling her droopy green eyes.
“Okay. I’m not asking you to believe in magic. I’m just asking you to trust me and help me. How about dinner Friday night so we can talk about this more?”
“Yeah… Okay.” Kate was more agreeable already thanks to the double dose of black coffee, food and Advil.
“All right, I’m in too.” Charlotte was less eager, but I had known she would go along with it.
“So, in the meantime, I need your help.” A look of alarm shot across their faces. “It’s nothing bad, I promise.” I couldn’t help but laugh a little. I explained my need to research before going back again.
“Oh sure, yes, of course we will help you go back in time so you can blend in with the locals. Maybe you could check out the fall fashions and report back any interesting trends.” Kate’s sarcasm was unnecessary, although she was funny even when she was mad. “Seriously, Lexi, I know it’s been a rough year with getting over Mark, but do you really need to run away to ancient Pompeii in a time machine—painting or whatever the hell you’re calling this?”
“This isn’t an escape, Kate. My need to go back has nothing to do with Mark. I made peace with that a while ago. The only thing that sets me on edge lately is that painting. Emotionally, I’ve never been happier.” I realized I’d spoken more harshly than I intended.
“We’re so relieved to hear it, Lexi. We really are, nothing makes us happier than to have our Lexi back. It doesn’t mean we’re ready to ship you off to ancient Pompeii though. You have to admit this is too crazy for even the crazy to believe.”
“Come on, Charlotte. Aren’t you the least tiny, teeny bit curious about this?” I peered at her above the rim of my cup. Like me, Charlotte was a hopeless romantic. Pleading to her whimsical, romantic side would bring her around pretty fast. From the sparkle in her eyes, I knew my plea worked.
“Okay, I’ll entertain the idea that the painting is a time portal. And let’s just say we help you with research and you actually go. Then what? What if you get stuck there? What if something happens to you there? What are you going to tell your parents? What will
we
tell your parents?”
As I already knew, there was a lot to consider, which I obviously was thinking about...But it didn’t mean I wasn’t going back. Not a chance.
“We’ll make you a deal. Lexi: you stay put and don’t mess with the painting
at all
during the week and we’ll help with research. She glanced at Charlotte for consent and, from the corner of my eye, I saw Charlotte nod. “Deal?”
I couldn’t believe my ears. “Yes, Kate, it’s a deal.” I burst into giggles, throwing my arms around her. Then I turned to Charlotte and hugged her just as tightly.
“I know this is complete madness. I just can’t help but feel there’s a higher power at play here, and that the painting landed in my hands for a reason. I guess I better brush up on my Latin…” I let my words hang unfinished in the air between us. I clapped my hands with excitement. “So, where do we begin?”
“Well, we can start with another pot of coffee and ordering in from somewhere. I’m starving and, as lovely as the toast with eggs was, I need real food to think clearly.” Kate stretched like a cat on the couch, grinning.
“Done. I’ll find the menus and then we’ll get started.”
“Real slave driver, isn’t she? Life in Pompeii might be just the right fit for you after all, Lexi.” Kate nudged me with her foot making us all laugh out loud.
By four in the afternoon, the girls headed home with the plan to return for the sleepover on Friday after our dinner. We promised we would send each other important information that we came across during our research.
The wheels were in motion. My skin tingled with excitement. By this time next week I could be on my way to Pompeii again. My heart skipped a beat at the thought of walking among the locals as one of them, free to explore the once-glorious city.
I debated whether to tell Mrs. Ashton about the painting now or wait until after my second visit.