Shannon pushed her glasses up on her nose and straightened up in her chair as she peered closer at the computer screen. It flickered back at her, words forming as her fingers clicked away at the keys. She was intent at her work, with a single-mindedness one normally saw in other teenagers only when playing video games. Shannon's interest was of a different matter: writing a story that she intended to have published. She wrote them all of the time, and her waking hours were spent concocting these tales and tasting the words that she was planning to implement them with. They were never shared with other people, instead simply saved on the hard drive of her computer. She typed until the lights in the library began to blink, and Ms. Madison, the librarian, began to turn off the computers around her. Shannon shook herself out of the world she had created and shut down her own computer, grabbing her back pack and slinging it over her shoulder as she walked out of the library just in front of Ms. Madison.
As Shannon walked in the door of her house, she shut it behind her and threw off her backpack. Reaching inside for a book, she grabbed it and walked into the kitchen, dark with the feel of emptiness. She flipped on all of the lights and began to make mac and cheese while reading. After many years of trial and error, Shannon had found that she could read while doing virtually anything; it was simply a matter of concentration.
She was slowly lowering herself into a chair with her food and book as strong footsteps marched up to the house, opened the door and shut it. They entered the kitchen, bent down, and kissed Shannon on the cheek.
"How's my girl?" the voice murmured.
"Fine, Dad," she answered, distracted.
"Anything exciting happen at school today?"
The ritualistic question was ignored but for the equally traditional "uh-uh."
Oblivious, her father chatted away as he helped himself to mac and cheese. "Davy came in wanting to know how to do long division again, so I showed him. I had to stay after tutoring Laura on the reading assignment – we're reading Peter Pan, remember that? – and then Joe (Mr. Stuart) wanted to know how I was getting on with my class, and I started telling him about The Wizard of Oz, and how excited all the kids are about putting on a play. He said that he tried that years ago but he couldn't handle it because all of the kids got so upset. I think that everyone in my class is mature enough to handle this, though, and it's going to be brilliant. These kids are amazing. - Pass me a fork, will you?"
Shannon was used to her father's enthusiasm for his 4th grade students, although now that she was six years past it, it seemed like her father was stuck in a distant past, somewhere a 10 year old version of herself lived. She hadn't the heart to tell him that she wasn't ten anymore. In fact, she was often found herself perversely jealous of the ten year olds who took such a hold on her father's heart, and more often than not wished that she were one of them. At least life was simpler then: she still thought that she was a princess, and she had a little kid's easy assurance that everyone would be your friend. Before she knew that fairy tales were just that, and that they had passed her by.
After receiving his fork, her father sat quietly for awhile chewing. "Honey," he finally said, "I got an offer the other day for a great summer job in England. They'd let me study at Oxford and talk to all of the other experts up there for awhile." He paused, and Shannon let this sink in. He had always wanted such an opportunity to continue his arcane research into the connection between the Druids of ancient England and their local tribe of Indians. He had ideas that they were connected, in ways that he believed had important significance for the world, but exactly how and precisely where he had gotten this idea were still mysteries to Shannon, even after so many years of hearing about it. "The problem is," he continued, "The problem is that I'll have to do a lot of traveling, and they won't let me bring you with me everywhere. I tried explaining that I have to bring you with me, but they didn't seem to understand. I'd be gone for the entire summer . . . ."
"You have to go, Dad," Shannon reassured him, knowing that this was what he wanted to hear.
"But I couldn't leave you alone all that time," he protested. She hadn't been alone for any night of her life.
"I'll figure out something to do. You have to go. Besides, I'm going to college year after next, so I have to get used to it sometime, right? I'll be fine."
"I know . . . ." his reluctance shone through.
"Dad." Shannon had put down her book long ago. "Dad. You have to go. This is what you've wanted your whole life."
He sighed. "One of the people I talked to said that it was possible for you to stay at the castle I was going to first . . . . He said something about a couple people living there, and they needed help with their library anyway . . . . But I don't know. It doesn't sound like there's a lot to the plan, and he wouldn't give me specific details . . . ."
Shannon's heart had started beating faster. She go to England? To a castle? She was dazed with romantic visions of walking and exploring and a handsome young man to lead her around. She could taste the stories and poems that could grow out of this. All of the sudden she was pleading. "Oh, please? I'm sure it's all perfectly harmless. And then we'll both be there."
Her father had to smile at her barely subdued enthusiasm. "Well, we'll see . . . I'll talk to them again."