"Every turn I take, every trail I track, every path I make, well it all leads back to the place I know where I cannot go, though I long to be..."
This has been the craziest week ever, and I'm really sorry I wasn't able to get a chapter up last Sunday. I'd written about half of it, but then I had to do a bunch of videos for my YouTube channel. (Oh, you didn't know I had a YouTube channel? Well, I do! I also have a website - which in itself has a link to my YouTube channel - and the link is in my profile.)
But then why didn't I finish writing the chapter and put it up another day this week? Well, as you might have figured out, I go to school, so Monday through Wednesday was extremely busy with schoolwork and homework. Then a friend of mine had to cancel our movie date to see Moana (for various reasons, none of them bad). Then the Cars 3 trailer came out and came extremely close to making me cry. Then almost nobody at school had seen the Cars 3 trailer, so I had absolutely no one to share my feelings with.
But the rest of the week was amazing.
On either Tuesday or Wednesday (I can't remember which), I got a private message from talking2myself! She wrote/is writing the amazing "The Great Disney Adventure" series, and she replied to my review of her newest chapter! If you get a chance, be sure to check her stories out. They're really good.
On Thursday, we got to watch the parade from the comfort of our living room - and for the first time, we knew someone in it! Our very talented friend Amy Van Norstrand is a tap dancer at the show "Holiday Inn" on Broadway, and she was in the show's musical number at the parade. She was in the beginning of the big jump-roping part of the number, on the left with brown hair. The sample at the parade convinced us to head down to NYC the next day (which we almost never do) to see the show, and it was absolutely AWESOME! (No pun intended.) The show was extremely fun, the songs extremely catchy (I mean, they're Irving Berlin's songs! How can they not be catchy?), and the performers extremely talented - although, I must admit that I was watching Amy most of the time.
To make the week even better, my friend who wasn't able to make the Moana show? She said that it would be fine if I saw the movie with my family first and then see it with her another day. So we got to watch the movie. I cried - twice. I laughed - more times than I could count. And I still cannot get a single darn song out of my head!
Thankfully, we had some free time last night after the play, so I was able to finish writing the chapter then and post it today. And for all of you that couldn't wait for another chapter, in the words of my friend Maui, "What can I say except you're welcome?"
Thank you again for waiting so patiently, and I will try to get the next chapter out sooner rather than later. I hope you enjoy!
(Disclaimer - see Chapter 1)
Chapter 7:
Nothing Left to Clear Out
I took a deep breath. We were outside the saloon, about to go in. Vitruvius had taken up shop here as a piano player, and I knew he'd be able to help us out.
"Alright," I said to Emmet. "We're just going to act natural. Just act like a cowboy."
He nodded.
I decided to do the ladylike thing and open the door for him. Suddenly, he burst into the room, acting like a complete stereotype. Typical.
I grabbed his arm and dragged him back.
"Okay," I said. "Don't be a cowboy – you obviously don't know what a cowboy does."
Emmet frowned.
"How about…how about you just be a stool?"
"Okay," Emmet said.
I opened the door again – and he burst in again, leaning over.
"Howdy, everyone!" he said. "I'm a stool, come sit on me!"
I planted my face in my hands. This was going horribly.
"Stools don't talk," I said through clenched teeth as I dragged Emmet out again. "Watch how I do it."
I walked into the saloon, spit in the golden spittoon next to the door (even though I had nothing to spit in there), and strutted into the crowd of people standing there, watching me. Emmet followed.
"What a lady!" I heard a woman in the back of the room say. The ruckus that had been going on before we walked into the saloon started again.
Faintly, I could hear a piano in the back of the room, playing a ragtime version of "Everything is Awesome." Gosh, he knows how much I hate that song.
I started walking to the back of the room (vowing silently to ask him about his song choice when the world wasn't in mortal danger), with Emmet on my tail. Sure enough, there he was, white hair pulled into a loose ponytail, a reddish-orange headband around…well, his head, and green Crocs on his feet.
"Vitruvius," I whispered.
"Who is this?" he said, almost yelling. Really, he should know my voice by now, I thought.
"It's me," I said, hoping he'd understand. Behind me, I could hear Emmet sipping something, then gagging.
"I am a blind man and cannot see," Vitruvius said. "Tell me your name."
"Wyldstyle," I said.
"Are you a DJ?" he asked.
I couldn't help but sigh. Not this again, I thought. "No, I am not a DJ –"
"Wait, are you my student who was so insecure she kept changing her name?" Vitruvius said. "First DarkStorm, then Gemini, then NeverSmile, then FreakFace, then SnazzyPants –"
"We found the Piece," I said, knowing that would shut him up.
Sure enough, he stopped talking about my previous names. "Meet me upstairs in ten seconds," he said. Then, as he stopped playing the piano and started up to his room, he knocked into a wall and fell down.
As you could probably guess, it took a little longer than 10 seconds to get upstairs. I helped Vitruvius up the stairs, with Emmet following me, as we walked to the wizard's room.
Finally, we got to the door of his room, and Vitruvius opened it. The room – as always – was filled with psychedelic colors and a bunch of different bricks and relics. Emmet was awestruck, but I wasn't sure if he felt amazed at the wonder of the room or betrayed that he was currently working for someone who clearly didn't follow instructions.
"Wow," he said. "You have a very…uh, weirdly decorated place."
"Thank you," Vitruvius said. "So, you said you've found the Piece of Resistance. Is it true?"
I nodded, then remembered that Vitruvius couldn't see. "Yes."
"Wyldstyle," Vitruvius said, turning toward my voice, "the prophecy states that you are the Special."
Oh, great. He didn't know who had the Piece.
After he finished a long-winded speech about how amazing I supposedly was, I finally cut him off.
"Well, that would be great," I said, "but Emmet's actually the one who found the Piece."
Vitruvius raised his eyebrows – maybe he was remembering, too.
"Hi," Emmet said, presumably as a way to let Vitruvius know where he was.
"Alrighty then," Vitruvius said, and turned towards Emmet. "Emmet, the prophecy states that you are the –"
"Well," I cut in, "I actually don't know if he's the Special. He's not even a Master Builder. Here, Emmet, try to build…I don't know, a really awesome race car."
Emmet nodded. "Where are the instructions?"
Vitruvius shook his head. "You must create the instructions in your mind, my liege."
"Okay, then. Race car." Emmet scanned the room. "Well, you have a lot of really cool and really…really crazy stuff here, but I, uh…I don't see a wheel…or three other wheels."
I planted my face firmly in my hand. "You see what I mean, Vitruvius?"
"I can't see what you mean, Wyldstyle. I can't see, period."
"No, but you hear what I mean. He will never be a Master Builder."
"No, he won't," Vitruvius said matter-of-factly.
Okay, at least someone agreed with me.
"But that's only if you keep on telling him that he can't."
Never mind.
"See, Wyldstyle?" Emmet said. "I can be a Master Builder. I can be the Special. I can save the – uh, what are you doing to me?"
Vitruvius had walked over to Emmet and was presently taking the Special's hair off.
"We are entering your mind," Vitruvius said. Realizing what he planned to do, I ran over to help him.
We closed our eyes and started moving around Emmet, careful not to let him fall. When I opened my eyes again, the three of us were in a world made entirely of blue. The sky was blue, the bricks under our feet were blue, even our bodies had a tinge of blue to them.
"Whoa!" Emmet said. "Are we inside my brain right now? It's really big – I must be smart."
It pained me to hear him say that, especially because I knew exactly why this world was so big, and why the ground was barren, almost as if it had been leveled.
"I'm not sensing a lot of activity here," Vitruvius said.
I took a deep breath. "I don't think he's ever had an original thought in his life."
Emmet's mouth dropped open. "Well, that's not true!" he said defensively. "Like once, I had a bunch of my friends over to watch TV."
Behind him, a TV was somehow built from the bricks on the ground.
"Not unlike this TV that just showed up here magically," Emmet said. "Anyway, I could hardly fit everyone on the one couch I had in my room. So I thought, 'What if there was such a thing as a bunk bed, but as a couch?'"
Behind him, two couches appeared, one on top of the other. Suddenly, extensions grew from the lower couch, raising the other couch to about where a roof would be in an apartment.
"Introducing the double-decker couch," Emmet said. "So everyone could watch TV together and be buddies!"
I stared at the couch skeptically. It was a good idea, but it needed a few improvements. But Vitruvius and I knew we needed to keep our cover.
"That is literally the dumbest thing I've ever heard," I said.
"Wyldstyle, let me handle this," Vitruvius said. "That idea is just the worst."
We kept on looking around for something that could imply he had the potential to be a Master Builder.
"I mean, if the Man Upstairs chose him, it has to be for a reason," Vitruvius said.
"Wait…who's the Man Upstairs?" Emmet said.
I sighed. "See? He doesn't even know who the Man Upstairs is."
"Wyldstyle," Vitruvius said with a condescending tone. He gestured up to the glowing voids that were his eyes.
"Sorry," I said.
"Wait," Emmet said. "Is the Man Upstairs – does he have super-weird hands that look like pink sausages…kinda like eagle talons mixed with squid…you know, something like that?"
I looked behind me to see Emmet standing on a brick replica of a hand. And sure enough, it was the hand of the Man Upstairs.
"Wait…you've seen the…" I stammered.
He looked down, just noticing the hand underneath him.
"Hey…that's what I was just thinking about!" he said as he jumped down from the hand. The bricks began to float away in the distance.
"But…how did you…"
"Well, I had this weird dream when I touched the – well, I was awake, so it wasn't really a dream, but –"
"Emmet," Vitruvius cut in. "You had a vision."
"I, uh…I did?" Emmet said.
"Master Builders spend years training to clear out their minds and catch a fleeting glimpse of the Man Upstairs," Vitruvius explained. "But you have so little in your mind that there was nothing left to clear out."
"Really?" Emmet said, not noticing the fact that what Vitruvius said could be construed as something other than a compliment.
Vitruvius nodded. "With proper training, you could most definitely become an exceptional Master Builder. All you have to do is believe, and you will see everything."
I couldn't help but smile, although I was a little annoyed that Vitruvius could talk about people figuratively seeing things while not letting me.
"Are you ready, Emmet?" Vitruvius asked.
"Yes, I am," Emmet said, a look of steely determination on his face. "I think."
"Then we must not waste any time," Vitruvius said, his green Crocs squeaking slightly. "It is time to call the Master Builders."
We closed our eyes, and in a flash, we were back in Vitruvius's apartment, ready to save the world.
Well, thank you so much for reading this chapter! This one was really fun to write - when I could find the time to write it. Vitruvius's antics are really funny to explore.
Feel free to review, but please no negative reviews or cursing. (And please, NOTHING POLITICAL!) Thanks!