I do not own Power Rangers: Jungle Fury

Dom and Fran are adorbs.

Places in Books

The Golden City and Taking a Break


They've walked to and over the Charles Bridge in the early morning sunrise.

One of the oldest stone bridges in Europe and, in Fran's opinion, . . .

"Oh, Dom, look at the lights, they look almost golden . . ."

"And the clouds too, huh? Pink and lavender and violet . . ."

. . . the most absolute beautiful anywhere.

They've walked to the Old Town Square and admired the Astronomical Clock Tower.

The third oldest astronomical clock in the world and the oldest clock still operating.

And . . .

"The locals believe the city will suffer if the clock is neglected."

"What?"

. . . for good reason too.

"Yeah, see Death striking the time?"

"Oh my gosh."

They've walked to and explored Castle Prague.

"There isn't a torture dungeon, is there?"

"If there is, we can skip it."

"Okay, good."

They've walked to and through St. Vitus Cathedral.

With its massive spires and arches and stained glass.

"They coronated kings and queens here."

"Ooooh-"

"They also buried important people in the tombs underground."

"Er, uh-"

They walked to and explored the Jewish Quarter.

Reminders of the oppression and abuse suffered by an entire grouping of people . . .

Oh come on.

Why, humanity, why?

. . . . simply for who they were.

They have walked to and beheld the glorious weirdness of the Dancing House.

"What in the world?"

"Yeah. Some of the locals hate it, some love it."

With its unique, twisty construction.

"I guess so."

"What do you think?"

Amid buildings of a much more typical . . .

"I . . . well, I just don't know."

"Yeah, it is something, huh?"

. . . presentation.

And in the midst all this walking and exploring and admiring, they've enjoyed the local culture and flavor of the world where-they-are.

Nibbled on trdelnik . . .

"Grilled roll cake with sugar and walnuts? I'm in! Oh, can I have the pink one?"

. . . and horice rolls . . .

"cinnamon and sugar and cream? Oh yes, please!"

. . . amongst other wonderfully, delicious things.

And if Fran thought she would ever get fat on all this delightful European Fare . . .

"Dom, . . ."

. . . it was only because she didn't know . . .

". . . how many more stairs?"

. . . there were so many steps, stairs, something in the entire world . . .

"You okay?"

.. . and they all seem to be headed ever up.

"Yeah."

And she loves it, . . .

"You sure?"

. . . she really does.

"Yeah."


And that's another thing about the trip.

Not only is Frances Faye Fugleman of Ocean Bluff, Not Europe, enjoying the sights and sounds of the world at large, . . .

". . . hjemme hos mig?"

"Ja, det ville vaere godt."

. . . one thing about Dominic Marcus Hargan is that he seems to make friends . . .

"What did they say?"

"They wanted to know if we want to have supper at home with them?"

. . . any and everywhere he goes.

"Oh. What'd you say?"

"I said, 'yeah'."

"Oh. Okay."

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I mean, do you know these people?"

'No. Why?"


And it's truly wonderful and amazing and exhilarating, it really truly, honestly is.

"Hey, where should we go today?"

Except on very specific days when . . .

"Oh, um, . . ."

. . . the very thought of it . . .

So much walking.

. . . is just plain pre-exhausting.

". . . well, . . ."

Her lack of enthusiasm is painfully clear.

As is her gearing up . . .

Okay, come on.

European backpacking.

All day walking.

Beautiful cobblestone streets.

Searing summer sunlight.

People. So many people.

Movement. So much movement.

Enthusiasm.

Yay.

.. . . to be the perfect backpacking partner.

And Dom . . .

"Hey, what's wrong?"

. . . catches on quite quickly.

"Nothing. I'm fine. Mmm . . ."

She shifts as another cramp hits her, barely suppresses a groan.

"Just give me a minute."

And Dom . . .

"Fran, I grew up with sisters before I went to Pai Zhua."

. . . guesses in a heartbeat.

"Do you want to stay in and rest today?"

And Fran resolutely shakes her head.

"No, I don't want to miss out on our European backpacking adventure-"

And Dom's stubborn.

"It'll still be there. It's not going anywhere. You gotta take care of yourself, Fran."

His gaze is straight and direct, without artifice or embarrassment or anything.

"Would you like to stay in and rest today?"

She shakes her head.

"No, we're supposed to . . . I mean, that would so boring for you-"

And Dom interrupts her . . .

"Fran-"

. . . gently.

She bites her lip as another cramp grips her.

And . . .

"Yes, I would."

. . . nods.

"Thank you."

Dom nods solemnly, then brightens.

"Stay here. I'll be right back."

And practically bounds from the room.


And it's not even just that.

It's everything.

It's the sights, it's the sounds, it's the cobblestone streets and weird smells, it's the fact that she's constantly lost and in a state of newness, absolute everything newness.

Nobody speaks English and she doesn't speak anything but English and Dom seems to know everything about everything and everybody before he's even met them and Fran is just a helpless lost goose without a pizza shop-

And it's not even the way she really feels, it just feels like a day where she doesn't like anything or anybody in the whole wide, lost, homesick world but-


"Oh, Dom. Thank you."

He has come back, as she knew he would.

"Here, drink this."

And with a strawed beverage drink in one hand.

"What is it?"

"Smoothie. Dark chocolate, berries, and kale."

"Kale?"

She's only ever had kale in salad.

"Yeah. it's good for your iron."

And didn't much care for it.

"Oh."

But she takes a tentative sip anyway.

"Okay."

And it's actually . . .

Oh-

. . . pretty good.

Well, alright then.

And then Dom proudly whips out a small white bottle . . .

"Oh, Dom. Thank you."

. . . of extra strength Advil.

"Where did you find it?"

"I have my ways."

And she takes two.


They read.

Fran sleeps.

They talk.

And by late afternoon, . . .

"Think you could go outside and sit in the sun? Might feel good."

"Yes. I think that'd be nice."

. . . they're sitting on a grassy knoll.

"Thank you for taking care of me, Dom."

Watching the world . . .

"Of course, Fran. That's what friends are for."

. . . go by.


And the next day, . . .

"How are you feeling?"

"Ready to explore!"

"You sure?"

"Yes!"

"Alright!"

. . . she feels much better.

"Do, uh, do you think we could ride a train instead of backpack today?"

"Sure. Let's go."


Maps are very useful when traveling.

"Let's see . . ."

They help you get from Point A . . .

"Um, well, we're . . . here . . ."

. . . to Point Z.

"And we need to get to . . . here . . ."

And all the Points in between.

"So we need to . . . go . . ."

And sometimes . . .

". . . um . . ."

. . . they simply get in the way . . .

". . . er . . ."

. . . of a good . . .

"You know what?"

. . . adventure.

"Let's just pick a direction."

And Frances Faye Fugleman watches in bewilderment and confusion as Dominic Marcus Hargan wads up the map he has so diligently been studying.

"Oh, um, okay . . ."

And tosses it dismissively . . .

". . . well . . ."

. . . over his shoulder.

"I guess we could go . . ."


Apparently I'm old enough now that tho this scene is an amusement and a joy to me, my first initial thought is, "Hey, you picked that paper up, don't litter! And by the way, keep it, you're going to need that!"

*facepalms*

Anyway, everybody gets homesick sometimes, even in one of the most amazing cities in the world.

And that's okay.

Thanks for reading! :)