I slump onto the steps, locked out again. Wondering just how long I’ll be forced to wait it out ’til he’s done doing—well, whatever it is he plans to do in there. Knowing it could be a very long time since, for a newbie especially, the Great Halls of Learning are just too good to resist.
I jump to my feet and brush myself off, refusing to sit outside like the loser I am, deciding to look around a little, maybe do some exploring. I’m always so single-minded when I come here, I rarely, if ever, take the time to just wander.
Knowing I can travel by whatever method I choose—subway, Vespa, heck, even astride a great painted elephant since there’s really no limit to what you can do here—I choose to go on horseback instead. Re-creating a mount similar to one I first rode with Damen, back when he lured me here for the very first time, only this one’s a mare.
I hop onto her back and settle into the saddle, running my hand over her silky, soft mane and down the side of her neck. Cooing softly into her ear as I give a gentle nudge in her gut and we set out on a leisurely walk with no real destination in mind. Remembering what the twins once told me about Summerland, that it’s built of desires. That in order to see something, do something, have something, experience something, or visit something, you must first desire it.
I stop my mount briefly and shut my eyes, attempting to desire the answers I seek.
But, as it turns out, Summerland is smarter than that, so nothing really happens other than the fact that my horse grows bored and lets me know it by snorting, grunting, whisking her tail, and stomping the ground with her hooves. So I take a deep breath and try something else, thinking out of everything here, out of all the movie theaters, the galleries, the beauty salons, the great and wonderful buildings, what’s the one thing I haven’t yet seen that I should?
What’s the one place I really need to know about?
And before I know it, my horse takes off at full gallop—mane flying, tail swishing, ears tucked back tightly, as I grip the reins and hang on for dear life. The scenery blurring and whirring right past me as I duck down low and squint against the gale. Covering a great distance of unfamiliar land in a matter of seconds, until my horse stops so suddenly, so unexpectedly, I vault right over her head and into the mud.
She whinnies loudly, rearing up on her hind legs before slamming back down on all fours, grunting and snorting and backing up slowly, as I struggle to my feet, slowly, carefully, not wanting to do anything sudden that might spook her even more.
More used to dealing with dogs than horses, I lower my voice, keeping it firm and steady as I point my finger and sa
y, “Stay.”
She looks at me, ears pinned back, clearly not liking my plan.
I swallow hard, swallow my fear, when I add, “Don’t go. Stay right where you are.”
Knowing she may not be much help if I was threatened in any real way, but still reluctant to be alone in this dank, creepy place.
I gaze down at my shorts, now covered with mud, and even after I close my eyes and try to replace them, try to clean myself up, I remain exactly the same. Instant manifestation doesn’t work in these parts.
I take a deep breath and fight to steady myself, as eager to leave as my horse, but knowing I was sent here for a reason, that there’s something I’m meant to see, I resolve to stay just a little bit longer. Squinting at the scenery before me, and noticing that instead of the usual, soft, golden radiance, the sky in these parts is all murky and gray. Instead of the shimmering mist that I’m used to, there’s a steady downpour that leaves the ground so muddy and wet it seems it never lets up, but if the barren plants and trees are any indication, appearing so cracked and dry it’s as though they haven’t been watered for years, it’s not exactly a nourishing rain.
I take a step forward, determined to decipher the message, learn why I’m here, but when my foot sinks so deep the mud swallows me up to my knees, I decide to let my horse take the lead. But no matter what I coo in her ear, what commands I give, she refuses to explore any further. She has one destination in mind and that’s back to where we came from, so I finally give up and give her full rein.
Glancing over my shoulder as we leave and remembering what the twins once said:
“Summerland contains the possibility of all things.”
And wondering if I somehow stumbled upon its other side.
seventeen
“What happened to you?”
I squint, having no idea what he’s referring to until I follow his pointing finger all the way down to my mud-splattered legs and the flip-flops that used to be a cute, metallic gold but are now so crusted with dirt they’re more like a blech-tinged brown instead.
I frown, instantly swapping them out for a nice, new, clean version of the exact same thing, glad to know I’m back to the magical section of Summerland, which is far more preferable to the no-man’s-land I visited earlier. Taking a moment to shrug on the soft lilac cardigan I also just manifested, wrapping it tightly around me as I say, “I got tired of waiting. I didn’t know how long you’d be, so I went on a little—uh—field trip.” I lift my shoulders like it was no big deal, like it was just your everyday, garden variety, late afternoon stroll—when the truth is with that weird, relentless rain, those barren trees, my horse’s determination to get the heck out of there, it was anything but. But Jude already has enough to process without my adding a confusing new territory to the mix and I’m eager to find out what he’s seen.
“But even more important than what happened to me is what happened to you?” I look him over from the top of his golden brown dreadlocks to the rubber soles of his flip-flops, noticing how on the outside he’s pretty much the same as I left him, but inside, something has definitely changed. There’s a shift in his energy, his demeanor. On the one hand, he seems lighter, brighter, brimming with confidence, yet he also seems distinctly edgy for someone who just visited one of the greatest wonders in all of the universe.
“Well—it was—interesting.” He nods, his gaze meeting mine, but only for a moment before he quickly turns away.
And I can’t believe he thinks he can get away with that. I mean, I think I deserve a little more after having brought him all the way here.
“Um, care to elaborate?” I arc my brow. “Exactly how was it interesting? What did you see, hear, learn? What did you do from the moment you entered to the moment you left? Did you get the answers I need?” Knowing I’m seconds away from peering into his mind to see for myself if he doesn’t spill soon.
He takes a deep breath and turns, moving several paces away until he finally meets my gaze and says, “I’m not sure I really want to get into it just yet—it’s a lot to process—I still need to make sense of it. It’s all a bit—complicated—”
I squint, determined to see for myself. There are very few secrets in Summerland, especially for a newbie like him who doesn’t have the first clue as to how it all works, but the second I run up against that solid brick wall, I know just where he’s been.